


What's Past Is Prologue

by Dream_Scapes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Byleth is ace, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Leonie and Byleth are sisters, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Time Travel, no beta we die like Glenn, will add more tags as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Scapes/pseuds/Dream_Scapes
Summary: Byleth has joined Garreg Mach as the Professor of the Golden Deer, and everything seems eerily familiar...Or, Byleth chose Blue Lions but got the chance to go back after the war ended and try again to save more people. However, when she wakes up after her dreams of war and Sothis, she doesn't remember the first route and only has strong feelings of deja vu, with her memories becoming clearer as the Battle for Garreg Mach approaches.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	1. The Beginning

Byleth dreams of war, and after that dreams of a strange girl on an oversized throne. Both are disturbingly familiar. When she wakes it is with a distinct sense of déjà vu and a feeling of impending doom. Something is going to happen today that will change everything.

When she drags herself out of bed and down to the common room of the inn, her father is waiting for her. He is not happy with her lateness, but neither is he angry. When he asks about her dreams she tells him of the war. The strange girl feels too real to speak of as a dream. 

Their conversation continues a bit longer, letting her know that Jeralt is feeling lonely and sentimental. He always loves to give advice, but usually not when they’re up before dawn, and definitely not when they’re running behind schedule. She doesn’t know what’s bothering him, and doesn’t know how to ask, or if she should, so she holds her peace and lets him talk to her. It turns out to be for the best, as Peter, one of the mercenaries currently in their band, rushes in with an urgent demand for Jeralt’s presence outside. 

There are three people waiting for them in the courtyard of the inn. One is a beautiful girl with snow white hair and violet eyes and an expression hard as diamond. Next to her is a handsome blonde boy with a charming smile and bright blue eyes; Byleth feels they are like the ocean, in that their beauty belies hidden depths within which dwell things that ought not see the light of day. The last is a gorgeous boy whose dark hair is just short and just curly enough that it gives the appearance of soft, ruffled feathers, save for one slim braid that hangs on the right side of his face. He grins easily at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Byleth looks at them again with a twinge in her heart and a shiver down her spine. All three are achingly familiar, and she doesn’t know what that means, or how to feel about it. 

The trio of nobles--they cannot be anything _but_ nobles--is requesting their aid in dealing with some bandits who are pursuing them. Byleth cannot stop looking at them, cannot stop thinking about how familiar they are, how they feel like, like--

“Wait, those uniforms--” Jeralt begins, bringing her out of her thoughts, before he himself is interrupted by Garrett, another of their mercenary band.

“Bandits spotted just outside the village! Damn...there are a lot of them,” he says and Jeralt scowls.

“I guess they followed you all the way here,” he says to the trio before them. “We can’t abandon this village now. Come on, let’s move.” As the others begin jogging forward, he turns to Byleth and says, “Hope you’re ready.” She isn’t; her head is too full of dreams and strange almost-recollections for her to be ready for a fight, but she nods anyway. 

As Jeralt goes off to get his horse, she jogs forward after the others, quick and quiet on her feet. One breath in through the nose, and out through the mouth, over and over again, until they reach the outskirts of the village and all that occupies her thoughts is the mission at hand. 

_Okay_ , she thinks. _I’m ready_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first fanfiction and first post to AO3 so it's especially meaningful to me, too. I'd also be over the moon if you left kudos or a comment. Thanks again. Good health and good cheer to you and yours! <3 Dream_Scapes


	2. A Skirmish At Dawn

Byleth had planned to wait for her father and preferably at least one other member of their band before confronting the bandits, but as she reaches the outskirts of the village she sees that her plan is unworkable; the young nobles are charging forward, valiantly, to confront the bandits, just like the greenhorns they are. She sighs and picks her pace up into a run, trying to put herself between them and danger. They have enough sense to let her do this, at least, for which she is grateful. She is even more grateful to hear, seconds after she reaches them, hoofbeats clattering up from behind and the sound of her father’s voice. His advice is fairly basic, but then again, it’s not really meant for her. 

Running forward, towards the bandits, the noble girl comes up alongside her and gives her a once over with her frigid violet eyes. “You have a strange aura about you,” she says contemplatively. Then, smiling, she issues Byleth a challenge: “You say you’re a mercenary, so show me what you can do.” 

Byleth is not sure whether she is irked by the challenge or pleased to show off, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it as the blonde noble comes up on her other side.

“Thank you. We are in your debt. It wouldn’t do for us to fall in a place like this,” he says, and she expects that to be the end, but it isn’t. “Please, lend us your strength. Let’s work together to drive out these thieves!”

_What do you think I’m doing now?,_ she thinks but doesn’t say. The battlefield truly isn’t a good place for conversation. 

The other noble boy comes up behind her then, and she isn’t surprised when he too speaks to her.

“It’s because of you guys that I’m not dead right now. Thanks for that!” he says cheerily. “I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods of fortune must be smiling on me!” 

Byleth gives this the same response she gave the others, which is to say, none, and continues running. One part of what the feather-haired boy said does stick out to her: throughout the entirety of Fodlan, she’s hardly ever heard mention of any gods other than the goddess of the Church of Seiros, and never from the nobility. The implications of that, though, must wait until after the fight. 

The first four bandits fall easily, the nobles proving surprisingly capable. The four of them work well together, too, which is a nice surprise. Byleth does not relax, exactly, as they go after the rest of the bandits, but she does allow herself to fall into a rhythm with the others, getting a hit in and allowing one of the nobles to swoop in and finish the bandit off--the girl with her axe, the blonde with his lance, feathers with his bow--or to herself finish off a bandit already hit by one of the three. Her father continues to yell advice from the rear, but he doesn’t join the fray, seeing as they have it clearly handled. It is as they close in on the bandit leader, though, that everything goes horribly wrong. 

Byleth hits the short, stocky man and he goes down, and she thinks that’s the end of it. She turns away, sure he’s dead, to check that the young nobles are okay, and so she is surprised by the sudden blur of movement in her periphery as the bandit leader leaps back to his feet. She whirls to face him but he is heading not towards her but towards the noble girl; Byleth runs. The girl pulls a dagger, the bandit leader snarls, and Byleth throws herself between them right as the sound becomes words: “You’ll die!”

The axe falls.

Time stops. 

The world inverts. 

Byleth opens her eyes.

She is in darkness. Somehow, though, it is a familiar, welcoming darkness. She has been here before. But when? She knows as soon as she hears the voice scolding her. 

“Honestly! What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?! It’s like you’re _trying_ to get me killed, you fool!”

Turning, Byleth sees the green haired girl on the oversized stone throne, awake now, and angry. Before she can think to defend herself, or ask questions, or say anything, really, the girl sighs, loud and dramatic, lifting her head and then dropping it back onto her hand as if being angry is too much work. “Well, it’s fine,” she says. “After all, if you don’t know the value of your own life, you’re not going to protect it very well, are you?” 

Byleth opens her mouth--to say what?--but the girl answers her own question before she can get a word in edgewise.

“ ’Course not. Well, then,” she continues brightly, standing and clapping her hands together just beneath her chin, “I guess it’s up to me to guide you from now on. Right?”

Again, Byleth does not know what, or if she should, answer. Again, the girl continues speaking without waiting for a reply.

“You can call me Sothis,” she says, “but I am also known as The Beginning.”

Byleth _knows_ that name, knows that this is the right name for this strange girl, feels that it is--though she does not know why--a very weighty name, and powerful. _Sothis, The Beginning...the beginning of what?_ Byleth recalls her premonition of that morning, after waking up from a dream that did in fact feature Sothis, that something would happen that would change everything, and she does not know if it has already happened or will happen or is currently happening. _Perhaps all three...perhaps the change is perpetual...but am I the catalyst or the reaction?_

“...My name is Sothis. And I am also called...The Beginning. But who once called me that?” 

Sothis’s own confused utterances draw Byleth out of her own thoughts. “Sothis?” she asks.

“I was not able to recall my name...until just now,” Sothis says looking down at her, perplexed. “And just like that it came to me. How odd.” Sothis’s demeanor shifts back to anger. “That look upon your face...Did you think me a child? A mere child who forgot her own name?! Phooey! That “child” just saved your life! And what does that make you?”

Byleth isn’t sure what Sothis picked up on, as her emotions rarely translate themselves automatically to facial expressions. She also isn't reassured at all about Sothis’s maturity, but she can tell that this time an answer is necessary. “Less than a child?” she ventures, and is rewarded by a nod and affirmation from Sothis.

“Correct! You understand. You threw yourself in front of an axe to save just one young girl. Yet all is well, as I have stalled the flow of time for now. You would have died had I not intervened.” 

Byleth wants to say many things to this, from an argument about the world changing potential of just one young girl, to a question about Sothis’s power and the nature of time, maybe even an exclamation about the nearness of her own death. “Thank you,” she says instead, and bows. 

“There now,” Sothis smiles. “Is gratitude so much to ask? I did deem you worth saving, after all.” This phrasing sits sourly with Byleth, but she makes no comment. She’s worked with nobles far more pompous, and decidedly less sympathetic, than Sothis. “Though it is only momentary,” Sothis continues, “time has stopped. However did I manage that?” She looks so lost as she asks that Byleth can’t help but want to comfort her, though she’s sure it wouldn’t be taken well. 

“What will happen when time resumes?” Byleth asks. She wants...well. _I wish I could help you remember yourself, Sothis_ , she thinks. _And not least because you’d probably be able to explain everything if you did…_

“When time begins again, the axe will tear into your flesh, and you will surely meet your end,” Sothis says, then huffs. “Ugh! How rude of you to drag me into this! Now what to do...”

Byleth blinks. _How rude of me to…? Really? Well, whatever. It’s done now. Or maybe…_

“Could you turn back the hands of time?” Byleth asks. As she speaks the words seem to echo, the same question and in her own voice, but with a more uncertain lilt. _What is this?_

“Of course!” Sothis says, straightening and smiling warmly at her. “I must turn back the hands of time!” A golden, glowing circle of arcane symbols and text in a language Byleth doesn’t recognize but _does_ appears before her, and Sothis studies it intently. “Yes,” she says. “Yes...I do believe it can be done. You really are quite troublesome.” Even her scolding words sound happy. It is almost...well. _Not that I really know what having a friend is like._ “I cannot wind back time too far,” Sothis continues, “but all is well. You are aware of what’s to come, which means you can protect yourself this time. Now, go!”

Sothis looks up, through her arcane circle, and meets Byleth’s eyes. Time does not stop, for time was already stopped, but for a moment everything is...suspended. The girl, Sothis, The Beginning, looks at Byleth, and through Byleth, and _into_ Byleth and for a moment...for a moment she feels _known_. Then it is over.

“Yes, you who bears the flames within,” Sothis says, but Byleth hears it as if from far away. She can still see her, but she is receding, fuzzing, breaking apart. _The flames within…?_ Byleth squeezes her eyes closed, she has to _listen_. “Drift through the flow of time to find the answers that you seek…”

The world reverts.

Time starts.

Byleth opens her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks so much for reading. I don't know what I was thinking when I started writing this in the present tense, but oh well. At least it's good practice. I hope Byleth doesn't come across as too bland or passive, I'm having a bit of a rough time balancing characterization and plot. Also, early on in the game she is kind of bland and passive, and that doesn't help. Anyway, thanks again!!! If you leave kudos or comments I will be eternally grateful. Take care, friends!!!


	3. A Reunion, An Invitation, and A Promise

Even with her magically granted heads-up, Byleth still, _still_ , skids in front of the noble girl and plants her feet _just in time_ to counter the bandit leader’s strike and send him reeling back onto the ground. She immediately starts ushering the noble girl away, though she doesn’t turn her back to her fallen opponent. _He’ll probably run, but better safe than sorry_.

“Hey, over here!” Feathers calls, and she glances over to see him and the blonde haired noble jogging towards them. Glancing back to where her opponent lay, he is no longer there. _I should have noticed him move_ \--she pulls out her sword as three new figures burst into the clearing. 

“The Knights of Seiros are here! We’ll cut you down for terrorizing our students,” the leader shouts, and with a sigh Byleth resheathes her sword.The man seems to actually take in his surroundings at this point--a shoddy showing all around, being late and unaware-- and changes tact: “Hey, the thieves are running away! Go after them!” 

As his subordinates oblige and run off after the retreating thieves, the leader figure approaches Byleth and the young nobles. He’s tall, fairly broad, with combed back brown hair and a mustache that works surprisingly well for him. His armour is white-- _that must be a bloody pain to clean_ \--with red and gold details and a golden-brown cape; whoever he works for has money. 

“The students seem to be unharmed,” the man says, looking over the three critically, and nodding to Byleth. The clip-clop of hooves draws his attention, though, and the man lets out a gasp fit for the stage. “And--who’s this?” he exclaims.

“Ugh…” Jeralt mutters from behind her. “Why him?”

“Captain Jeralt?!” the man says again, equal parts delight and shock, either not hearing or ignoring Jeralt’s own comment. “It is you! Goodness, it’s been ages. Don’t you recognize me? It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man! Well, that’s how I always thought of myself anyway. It must have been twenty years ago that you went missing without a trace. I always knew you were still alive!” Byleth blinks at this onslaught of words but seizes onto one thread in particular: _My father worked with this man? And twenty years ago he...disappeared? Left? Ran away? From what? Why? And why don’t I know any of this?_

Jeralt sighs, but there’s a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. “You haven’t changed a bit, Alois. Just as loud as ever. And drop that “captain” nonsense. I’m not your captain anymore. These days I’m just a wandering mercenary. One who has work to do. Good-bye, old friend.”

Byleth stares at her father as he starts to turn away. Sure, he’s infamously taciturn and reclusive, almost as bad as she is, but walking away from a friend he hasn’t seen in twenty years because they have business in the _bloody Kingdom_ which is _days_ of travel away and thus not going to be impacted much if at all by a bit of conversation...well! He’s obviously trying to avoid something. _But what?_

“Wait!” Alois cries, bringing her out of her thoughts. “That isn’t how this ends. I _insist_ that you return to the monastery with me!” 

Surprisingly, Jeralt actually stops. “Garreg Mach Monastery,” he murmurs to himself, looking out at nothing. “I suppose this was inevitable.” Byleth shivers, goosebumps running up her arms and legs. There _is_ something inevitable about Garreg Mach, she can _feel_ it... _but what is it?_

“And how about you, kid? Are you the captain’s child?” the man, Alois, asks, turning his full attention to her. Byleth nearly flinches from the sheer presence of personality--he is _so much_ \--but a gleaming opportunity has presented itself.

“I’m a bandit,” she says. Alois laughs heartily while the three young nobles hide their snickers, perhaps under the impression that they shouldn’t be listening in. Even her father cracks a smile. 

“You have the same sense of humour as the captain,” Alois says when he’s finished laughing. “I’d love for you to see the monastery too. You will join me, won’t you?”

 _I don’t think I really have that much of a choice_ , Byleth thinks as she nods. 

Jeralt sighs beside her, and when Alois asks what the matter is-- “You aren’t about to run off again, are you?”--he answers in a resigned tone: “Even I wouldn’t dare run from the Knights of Seiros.” _But why would you want to run, Father? What is there at Garreg Mach that you so dread?_

 _“Hmmm...The Knights of Seiros...They do seem rather skilled…”_ Sothis’s voice muses. Byleth starts, glancing around for the girl, for Sothis-- _how is she here?!_ \--but not seeing her. _“Ah, it seems your presence is required. Get going!”_

 _My presence…? Oh._ Byleth sees the three young nobles gathered a small bit away, waving her over. Glancing toward her father and Alois, she sees that the former is already making his way back to the village to inform the rest of their band of the change in plans, while the latter is in conference with some of his soldiers-- _knights?_ \--who have presumably returned semi-successfully from capturing the fleeing bandits. _Nothing for it, then_. She walks over to the trio. 

“I appreciate your help back there,” the girl noble says as Byleth comes up to them. “Your skill is beyond question. You’re clearly an experienced mercenary. And your father...that would be Jeralt, the Blade Breaker? Former captain of the Knights of Seiros. Oft praised as the strongest knight to ever live. Have I missed anything?” 

_What the fuck. What the fuck! What is all this?!_ Byleth thinks as the girl rattles off a veritable biography of her father. _I’ve definitely heard some of the band members call him Blade Breaker, but…_ “The Knights of Seiros?” she asks. 

“You haven’t heard of the Knights of Seiros?” the girl asks incredulously. “The most famous order of knights in all of Fódlan?”

 _Ah. Fuck._ She opens her mouth to explain that yes, apparently she _has_ been living under a rock her entire life, but Feathers interjects.

“Hey, you are coming with us to the monastery, right? Of course you are. I’d love to bend your ear as we travel.” _Thanks for the save, Feathers_ , she thinks, and tries to communicate with her eyes, but she’s not sure how successful she is. “Oh, I should mention that the three of us are students at the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery,” he continues-- _did he just wink at me? Does that mean he understands?_ “We were doing some training exercises when the bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.” This time the wink is far less subtle, and coupled with his utterly charming grin the insincerity practically drips off him. _What game are you playing?_ she wonders.

“That would be because you ran off,” the noble girl says hotly.

“Too true,” Feathers agrees with an easy smile. “I was the first to make a strategic retreat. Everything would have worked out if _these two_ hadn’t followed me and ruined everything. Because of them,” he places his head in his hands for dramatic effect, “every single one of those bandits chased after us. Utterly ridiculous.”

“Ah, so that’s what you were thinking, Claude,” the blonde noble boy says with a hint of disapproval. “And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.” 

“His intentions were as clear as day,” the noble girl scolds. “You will prove a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person’s words.”

“Hmph! You will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on,” the blonde says coldly. 

“Oh, joy! A royal debate between Their Highnesses,” Feathers-- _Claude_ \--says. 

_Rulers...Their Highnesses...Fuck all, they’re royals!...what have I gotten into?_ Byleth comes back to the conversation in time to hear Claude chide the other two for naiveté.

“Me? Naive? Tell me, are you actually incapable of keeping quiet, or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?” the royal girl seethes. 

“In any case,” the royal boy cuts in, turning to Byleth, “forgive our digression. I must speak with you, if you can spare a moment.” He launches into conversation without actually giving her a chance to respond, not that she knew what she would have said anyway, but still. The entitlement is annoying. “The way you held your ground against the bandits’ leader was captivating! You never lost control of the situation. It showed me I still have much to learn.”

“Your skill is precisely why I must ask you to consider lending your services to the Empire,” the royal girl cuts in. “I might as well tell you now. I am no mere student. I am also the Adrestian Empire’s--”

“Halt, Edelgard. Please, allow me to finish my own proposition.” Turning back to Byleth, the royal boy smiles his polite, charming smile. Seeing it makes her feel cold; it is too...impersonal? _But why should he be familiar with me, or I with him?_ “The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals like yourself. Please, do consider returning to the Kingdom with me.”

“Whoa, there!” Claude says with a little laugh. “You two sure are hasty. Trying to recruit someone you just met? Tactless, really. I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for favours. But,” he says, and Byleth’s heart sinks as he turns toward her, “it seems there’s no time for niceties in this world. So, capable stranger, let’s get right to it. Where does your allegiance lie?”

 _“Hmm,”_ Sothis’s voice muses in her head. _“It seems one’s place of birth is quite significant to them. Yet they are so impressed by you, that you may take your pick. Well?”_

A part of Byleth wants to run away and not look back, to get as far from these strange royal heirs and the politics they embody as she can. She wants to tell them that her allegiance is to her father, but even though it’s _true_ as far as it goes, she doesn’t think she can weasel out of the question, not when all three care _so much_ about her answer…She kind of wants to say the Kingdom, to see if the blonde royal will give her an actual smile, but no, best not encourage whatever this...strange attraction is. _Where have I spent the most time?_ Their band has travelled all over Fódlan, even outside of it, but there is one place where you can almost always get a job…

“Leicster,” she says. “The Alliance.” 

“Is that right?” Claude says with another easy smile. “Well, that’s a win for the Alliance so I suppose I’m obligated to be happy.” 

_Well, fuck you, too, I guess,_ Byleth thinks and glances over at the sound of footsteps. 

“All right, that’s enough with the small talk,” Alois says cheerfully-- _is he ever_ not _cheerful?_ \--and motions to them to disperse. “It’s time to head back to the monastery!” 

“Looks like we’ll have to pick this up another time,” Claude says as they leave her. The other two royals just nod, and Alois gives her a big smile and a wave. Byleth waves back, then turns and starts to make her way over to where she can see her father and their band gathering. 

_“My, my. They are in such a hurry,”_ Sothis remarks. _“You know...Each of the three is most unique…”_

 _Claude’s easy smile is striking,_ Byleth thinks in return, _but it doesn’t reach his eyes...Edelgard is a refined young woman, but I feel as though she is always evaluating me...and the blonde boy...whose name I still don’t know...He seems quite sincere, but I sense a darkness lurking beneath._

 _“Yes, I thought the same.”_ Sothis yawns and sighs. _“I am so sleepy once again...I may be sleeping...but...I…”_ Her words trail off into, what Byleth can only assume, is sleep.

 _Why is she so tired? Is it a spell of some sort, a curse? Is it related to her forgetting? Will she ever be less tired? And how is she here?_ Byleth sighs. _I just want answers, but all I have are more and more questions..._

“Hey, kid!” her father calls, and she snaps to attention. Leading his horse over to her, he pats some of the luggage tied to his saddle. “I took the liberty of packing your knapsack for you, that alright?” When she nods, he continues. “We’re waiting on a few stragglers to get their shit together, but we should be on the road in about half an hour. We’ll probably catch up to the Knights and those brats pretty fast, so travelling at their speed, I’d say there’s probably a day, day and a half of travel before we get to Garreg Mach.” He sighs and looks away, the air between them heavy with questions unasked, stories untold. He looks back to her, sighs again. “Look, kid, I know there’s a lot I haven’t told you. I promise I’ll tell you everything someday, but I’m just not ready yet. I’m sorry.”

Byleth would’ve called bullshit on that, would’ve demanded answers from him, but in that moment, as he apologizes to her, as he remembers the things he has never told her, he looks _so sad_. Byleth has hardly ever seen her father this sad, this pained by memory. It’s an expression she associates mostly with questions about her mother-- _Does my mother have something to do with Garreg Mach?_ \--and so she lets it go. She hates to see him so sad.

“Someday,” Jeralt repeats with a forced half smile, and reaches out to ruffle her hair. She lets him, and watches as he walks away to make sure everything’s in order for their departure.

“Someday,” she says quietly, to herself, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. She’s not sure, as she says it, why the word leaves a bleak, ashy taste in her mouth, nor why her heart is so heavy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the long wait. Hope you like this chapter! I'm getting more comfortable straying from canon, so hopefully that's apparent. I'm really excited to get to Garreg Mach and finally meet the rest of the cast next chapter! Not entirely sure how that's going to go...it's a lot of people...maybe I'm not actually excited to write that...but I mean, all the rest of the children! The pain will be worth it. Maybe we won't meet everyone in one chapter, though...  
> As ever, I'd be eternally grateful if you left kudos or a comment, and if you choose to leave both, I mean, there is no better present for me!!! It's also like, an incredible motivation boost. I'm going to keep picking at this story no matter what, but I will probably do it faster if I know people want to read it. Thank you for reading, though, regardless.  
> Good health and good cheer, friends!
> 
> <3
> 
> Dream_Scapes


	4. Journey, Arrival, and Audience

For the first part of the journey to Garreg Mach, Byleth could almost pretend nothing was different. Almost, because her father didn’t talk or joke as they walked, but instead gazed absently at the road in front of them, not really looking at it at all. Almost, because the other mercenaries in their band kept out of Jeralt’s hearing range and talked in hushed voices, shooting glances at both their leader and Byleth herself. Almost, because every once in a while Byleth would feel the world tilt under her feet as she recognized the scenery, though for the most part the band-- _her father_ \--had avoided Central Fódlan. _I guess now I know why…_

It is both better and worse when they catch up to Alois and his Knights and the young nobles. She talks with the latter three, glad of the distraction, but can’t shake the strangeness of the experience. Seeing her father talking and laughing with Alois, teasing him like the old friend he clearly is, catching up... _Can I even say I know him, when I know nothing of his past?_

_“Of course you can,”_ Sothis chimes in sleepily. _“He is your father, he raised you, and raising you shaped and changed him. No matter his past, you know his current self. You know who he is, just not the entirety of how he came to be that way._ ” Then she yawns, fading from Byleth’s conscious mind. 

Byleth hums noncommittally and lets herself drift, watching the sunlight glitter gold and green through the trees above.

“This will be your first time at the monastery. I’d be happy to show you around,” the blonde haired prince, who by now Byleth knows is named Dimitri, says, breaking the silence. 

Claude glances over to him and then to her. Fixing his gaze ahead, he smiles. “It really is Fódlan in a nutshell. The good _and_ the bad.” 

“Like it or not, we’ll be there soon,” Edelgard says. Byleth glances to her left, curious. The princess obviously has strong feelings about the place, and, given the careful neutrality of her tone and her words, Byleth would be willing to bet that those feelings are negative. 

Soon after that, they come out of the woods. The path winds forward, climbing into the foothills of the Oghma Mountains, which roll out in front of them. Garreg Mach Monastery juts from the base of the mountains, towering, distant, and proud. _Beautiful_ , Byleth thinks, then grimaces. _It’s still so far away…_

“Would that I could fly,” Claude mutters under his breath, gazing out at their destination. 

“You would abandon us again?” Dimitri asks, faux offended.

“Oh, never, Your Highness,” Claude reassures him with a smile. “I’d take you with me, of course.” 

“Oh, I, uh--” Dimitri begins stammering, but is cut off.

“And the two of you would leave the rest of us to rot?” Edelgard demands.

“Of course not, Princess,” Claude says sweetly. “Just to endure a very long trudge into the mountains.” 

The nobles continue bickering and teasing each other for a good portion of the journey, and Byleth is happy to listen, only interjecting occasionally when a joke’s too good to pass up or ruffled feathers need soothing. It’s nice, walking with them like this, and the distance to the monastery seems to pass quickly, though admittedly toward the end of the trek not even Alois is trying to keep conversation going. 

Byleth gets a vague idea of the village of Garreg Mach as they pass through it, mostly that it seems very similar to Remire and other northern Imperial villages she’s been to. Her focus is mostly drawn to the monastery, which seems more like a fortress than anything else. The miniature marketplace within its thick defensive walls does nothing to dispense with this impression, nor does the quantity of knights and soldiers running about. 

Once they are within monastery grounds, the three young nobles each politely take their leave of her and run off, probably to their rooms to get a change of clothes and bathe, or perhaps just to drop into bed. At least, that’s what Byleth would do in their stead. Feeling distinctly lonelier without them, Byleth walks up the stairs to stand in front of the entrance hall, waiting for Alois to finish what seems to be sorting out lodgings for Jeralt’s mercenaries. 

“Hello! Are you new here?” a friendly voice asks, startling her. Turning, Byleth finds a guard standing a few feet from her.

“Ah, my apologies, I was distracted and didn’t notice you. Yes, I am new here.” She pauses a moment, uncertain, then continues. “How did you know?”

“Apology gladly accepted, miss. Most people brush past like I’m just part of the scenery; I’ve learned not to take it personally. And to answer your question, I knew you’re new because you keep looking around and shifting on your feet. You’re not comfortable here, so either you’re new or you’re waiting for someone or something unpleasant. And since I stand guard here just about everyday and recognize almost everyone who lives in or frequents the Monastery, I assumed you were new, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” He smiles at her warmly again, then adds: “I’m very glad you are new; it’d have been very embarrassing if I’d been wrong.” 

“Yes, I can imagine it would have been,” Byleth says. The guards looks like he’s going to talk again, but he doesn’t get the chance. 

“Ah, Byleth! I see you’ve met the Gatekeeper. Gatekeeper, hello,” Alois says, walking up with Jeralt and nodding to the guard amicably. “I’m afraid we must leave you to your post. Come, young Byleth! An audience with the Archbishop awaits!”

The guard--the Gatekeeper--shrugs at her good naturedly. “If you want to talk more, I’ll probably be here. Have a good day, Miss Byleth.” 

“Okay, uh. Good bye,” Byleth replies. As she follows her father and Alois into the monastery, she ponders the guard schedule at Garreg Mach. _He can’t mean that he’s on guard every day of the week, all day, can he? That would be irresponsible scheduling, just absolutely exhausting…_

Lost in thought, she nearly bumps into her father when he stops in the courtyard beyond the entrance hall, looking up. Byleth follows his gaze to see a woman looking down at them from a balcony. 

“Rhea’s here,” Jeralt says by way of explanation, with something in his voice that Byleth can’t place. _The name, though...the name is so familiar..._

“Well, come on, kiddo,” Jeralt sighs, clapping her on the shoulder. “Alois is getting ahead of us.”

Byleth makes an attempt to remember the way to the Archbishop’s audience chamber, but the whole monastery seems rather maze-like to her, and she’s sure if she tried to get back to the front gate on her own she’d get lost. Hopefully they won’t be staying here long enough for it to be a problem, but she doubts it. Standing in front of the door to the chamber, waiting for Alois to come back, looking at her father’s resigned face, she thinks the likelihood of their staying is high. She hopes the likelihood of answers is high, too. 

The door opens and Alois comes out, smiling jovially. He holds the door open and gestures them inside. “Good luck in there! I’ll meet you back here when your meeting’s over, we can grab dinner together and catch up a little more!”

“We’ll be here,” Jeralt says, walking inside. Byleth waves goodbye to Alois before following her father. 

The audience chamber is larger than she anticipated, and emptier. She’d thought the Archbishop would be waiting for them, but that’s not the case. 

“It’s been years since I’ve last set eyes on this place. To be forced to see her now…” Jeralt murmurs beside her.

“Her?” Byleth asks. _The Archbishop? Someone else? A friend? A lover?_

“You saw her in the courtyard earlier, didn’t you?” Jeralt asks looking at her. “The Archbishop, Lady Rhea.” 

“The Archbishop?” she asks, seizing the opportunity to ask about a title that had been confusing her since she’d first heard it, but which she was sure was something it would be expected for her to understand. _Would that I knew even the most basic things about the Church of Seiros…_

“As you know, the majority of folks in Fódlan are devout followers of the teachings of Seiros. The leader of that ridiculously large religious organization is the Archbishop, Lady Rhea.”

“Thank you for your patience, Jeralt,” a tall, official looking man says, walking brusquely into the room and cutting Jeralt’s explanation short. “My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the Archbishop.”

“Right. Hello.” Jeralt gives the man a polite nod, but then returns his gaze to the man’s companion, the woman from the balcony, Lady Rhea. She’s beautiful, and she’s certainly dressed in ceremonial attire. Byleth can’t think of any other reason one would wear what is surely a few pounds worth of gold on one’s head. 

“It has been a long time, Jeralt,” Rhea says in soft, gentle voice that Byleth does not trust at all. “I wonder...was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”

“Forgive my silence all these years,” her father replies with a small bow. “Much has happened since we last spoke.”

“So I see. The miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. That is your child, is it not?” Rhea smiles sweetly at her, and Byleth wants to run away. She also wants to point out that she can also talk, but she doesn’t want to speak to this uncanny woman with her cloying sweetness, nor with her severe advisor. 

“Yes. Born many years after I left this place. I wish i could introduce you to the mother of my child...but I’m afraid we lost her to illness.” _Well, this is the first I’ve heard of that…_

“I see. My condolences. As for you,” and now, finally, horribly, the Archbishop turns and, smiling beatifically, addresses Byleth herself. “I heard of your valiant efforts from Alois. What is your name?”

For a second, Byleth considers not telling her, but she doesn’t know enough to risk being rude to this woman. “My name is Byleth.”

“A fine name indeed,” the Archbishop says, a pleased smile on her lips. “From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officers Academy.”

“Hmph,” Jeralt grunts quietly, but Byleth isn’t sure what it means.

“Jeralt,” the Archbishop continues, turning back to him. “You already know what it is I wish to say, do you?”

“You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don’t you. I won’t say no, but…” _But he has conflicted feelings about it_ , Byleth thinks sourly. _He wants to keep avoiding whatever he’s been avoiding, but spending time with Alois has made him realize how much he misses of this place, how lonely his life has been...how lonely my life has been…_

“Your apprehension stings. I had expected Alois would have already asked this of you.” Her father makes no reply. “I must step away for now,” the Archbishop says graciously, “but I expect they will desire a word with you soon. Please listen carefully to what they have to say. Until tomorrow...Farewell.”

Byleth takes a deep breath when the door to the side chamber closes behind the Archbishop and her advisor. She’s so relieved that she doesn’t initially hear her father speaking, only catching the tail end of a sentence, something about the Knights of Seiros.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” he says looking at her. “Looks like I’ll be stuck here for a while...and I’m afraid your services are requested as well.” _Wait...what? They want me to work here? When did that come up?_

“As a mercenary?” she asks aloud, because it’s the only skillset she really has, and it does seem that the Church of Seiros has a strong military arm. 

“Nothing like that. They want you to teach, by the sound of it. You heard those brats earlier talking about the Officers Academy, right?” 

Byleth nods; she had heard them talking about their school, yes. _But teaching...me? That can’t possibly be right…_

“Well,” Jeralt continues, “the academy just happens to be short a professor. And apparently that damned Alois went and recommended you to Lady Rhea.”

_Oh. Oh, no..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry it's been so long. I had the first thousand words of this done like two weeks ago but then I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave it there and save the audience with Lady Rhea for next chapter or not. I decided not to, as this way we get the fun panic right at the end, and then we can start the next chapter with a bit of panic too! And we'll finally get to meet the students next chapter. I thought it was going to be this chapter, but, uh. Things took longer than I thought they would. But! Now things are actually happening! I'm so excited. I hope you're excited, too.  
> Good health and good cheer, friends! <3 Dream_Scapes


	5. New Colleagues and A Chance Encounter

A new man and woman enter the audience chamber, the former dressed smartly in a grey wool suit and overcoat with a bright green cravat, the latter wearing a teal dress split so far up the thigh and with such a low cut neckline that Byleth is amazed at how decent the coverage it gives actually is. _The cape adds a really regal air, and the orange accents are nice…_

“So, you must be the new professor,” the woman says, looking at Jeralt. “My, how stern and handsome you are.” 

_Oh, no_. _Please, no flirting, I don’t know how to deal with it…_

“Er, no,” Jeralt says, being only slightly better at dealing with flirting than Byleth herself. “I’m not the one you’re looking for.” Turning to Byleth he says, “You can handle things from here. Good luck.” 

_Traitor_ , she thinks morosely, but she listens as he leans in closer and whispers so only she can hear. 

“And watch out for Lady Rhea. I don’t know what she’s thinking, making you a professor like this. She may be up to something. Stay on your guard.” _As if I wasn’t going to do that anyway_.

“Oh, it’s you, then? So young…” the woman standing before her says, her tone dubious. 

“Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know,” the man interjects. Looking at them side by side is amusing, because they seemed dressed for two entirely different occasions. “I am Hanneman,” he says, turning to her, “a Crest scholar and professor at the Officer’s Academy. I wonder if you bear a Crest of your own. When next you have a moment to spare, I insist that you pay me a visit so we can delve into the subject further.” 

“I’m Manuela,” the woman says before Byleth can respond to Hanneman. “I’m a professor, a physician, a songstress, and available. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You’re a physician?” Byleth asks, and immediately regrets it. _Just because she doesn’t look like any physician or medic I’ve ever seen doesn’t mean I should doubt her_. Thankfully, Manuela laughs, seemingly unoffended. 

“I look too pretty for that line of work, do I?” she asks. “But, yes, when I’m not teaching, I can be found in the infirmary. If you’re ever lonely, please do come and pay me a visit. I would love to--” 

“Spare our colleague the needless chatter, Manuela,” Hanneman interrupts. 

Byleth isn’t sure whether she’s more grateful to be saved from the flirting or indignant at the man’s rudeness to Manuela. _They don’t seem to get along…_

“Now then,” Hanneman says, turning to her, “it seems you’ll be taking charge of one of the Academy’s three houses.I expect you haven’t yet been briefed on the nature of each, have you?” 

Byleth shakes her head. 

“Do you really not know?” Manueala asks, surprised. “Fine, I’ll do you a favour and explain.” 

_I am so tired of knowing so little_ , Byleth thinks as Manuela and Hanneman explain that the Officers Academy has three houses that correspond to the nationalities of the students: The Black Eagles are from the Adrestian Empire, and Edelgard, the Imperial princess, is the house leader. The Blue Lions are from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Prince Dimitri is their house leader. The Golden Deer are from the Leicester Alliance, and Claude is their house leader. 

“To think,” Hanneman says, shaking his head, “that the next emperor, king, and sovereign duke are all here. It certainly is a promising year for the academy.” 

“I’ll say,” Manueala says, less enthusiastically. “I just hope none of those little treasures cause any trouble.”

“Hm, quite,” Hanneman agrees, then looks back to her. “For now, I suggest taking a stroll around the academy to get your bearings. And when you’ve a moment, please stop by my research laboratory.”

“The old man has a point,” Manuela says. “Oh, and keep in mind that I’ve only notified the house leaders that you’re our new professor. It’s more fun that way. I suggest you try spending time with the students. Some odd ducks in that bunch, but they’re good kids. I’m sure Lady Rhea will have more information for you tomorrow, but that should get you going. Good luck! You’ll need it.”

So saying, she sweeps out of the audience chamber. Hanneman nods politely at Byleth, then exits himself, leaving her to find her own way through the labyrinthine halls of Garreg Mach to wherever the dining hall is. 

It takes Byleth half an hour to give up trying to find the dining hall on her own. It would have taken longer, but it’s getting dark, and her feet are still sore from the road, and she hasn’t had anything to eat for hours, and she’s tired and dirty and frustrated and _alone_. The monastery seems largely to be winding down for the night, so there aren’t a lot of people about to ask for directions. As she’s considering turning around and tracing her steps back to the Cathedral-- _surely there’s people there, even this late_ \--she rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone.

“Sorry,” she says, looking up at the boy before her. 

“No harm done, friend,” he says, brushing a bit of lilac hair out of his face. “You should probably pay better attention to where you’re going, though. It’s getting dark.”

“I know. Hey, actually, do you know where the dining hall is? I got lost.” He laughs airily, easily, though she’s not sure what part of what she said was funny.

“Sure thing, friend. I just came from there. You’re not too far off. Here, I can take you, I have a bit of time.” 

“Thanks,” she says, and follows him to the dining hall. 

She smells the food before she sees the door, which the boy points out to her. 

“Well, you’re all set. Have a good evening, friend,” he says, and strolls off into the gloaming. 

“You too,” Byleth replies automatically. 

It’s only when she’s sitting with her father, Alois having had to leave dinner early to take care of something or other, telling him the story of getting lost and of the polite, if strange, boy who had helped her, that she realizes she never asked his name. She puts it out of her mind, though. He’s probably one of the students she’ll be meeting tomorrow. And, even if he’s not, it’s none of her concern. She has plenty to worry about without adding strange lilac haired boys to the list! She repeats this to herself at dinner, and in the gloriously warm baths, and even as she’s lying snug in bed. The sentiment does nothing to distract from the nagging sense that there _is_ something to worry about with regards to the boy. 

_But what? We barely spoke, there is nothing I could know about him to cause such concern!_

_“Perhaps…” says Sothis, sleepily, “but, no. That would mean...Hmmmm.”_

_You’re not helpful at all_ , Byleth grumbles at her mentally.

_“It’s hard to be helpful when one’s memory consists of tattered lace and spider’s web! There are designs but I cannot see the whole of them, only frayed edges. It is most irksome.”_

_So is having feelings for no reason_ , Byleth replies. 

_“Yes, I know,”_ Sothis sighs. _“Sleep, child. Nothing will be solved this night. And the morrow brings a turning point, a choice, which will determine the pattern of the weave. I wonder...Well, anyway. You ought to be well rested, so as to make the best choice you can.”_

 _I hate when you’re reasonable_ , Byleth thinks, and falls asleep to the comforting sound of Sothis’s bright and chiming laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, I lied, I'm sorry, we didn't meet the children in this chapter either. We did meet Manuela and Hanneman, though, so that's good! And we did meet one (1) child (sort of), so that counts for something right? But now, we absolutely, definitely, 100% are going to be meeting more of the children next chapter because otherwise I'd be making up a thousand or so words of filler content which I don't want to do, because I want to meet the children! Going forward though I think I'm not going to even try to tell you what to be excited for in the next chapter, because I've proven an unreliable source. 
> 
> As ever, if you leave kudos and/or comments, you are my favourite people and I will cherish you forever. But even if you don't, I'm honoured just that, of all the many, many FE:3H fics you could've read, you chose to spend some time with mine. Thank you! 
> 
> Good health and good cheer, friends. <3 Dream_Scapes


	6. A Decision and Several Meetings

Byleth meets her father for breakfast, and finds her way to the dining hall all on her own this time. Alois drops by as she’s scarfing down the second to last of her biscuits to say hello and tell her that she’s been scheduled an audience with Lady Rhea for later that morning to talk about her professorship.

“Ha! I imagine that you were a bit surprised that I recommended you as a professor here,” he says. Byleth nods, though surprise is really too gentle of a word for her reaction to that particular news. “Frankly,” he continues, “we had someone else in mind for the role, but they ran off during our dustup with the bandits. Can’t entrust students to someone who’d abandoned them once before, huh?”

“I suppose not,” she says.

“Just so! Oh, but before I forget, Seteth will have the exact time of your audience and any other details you need to know; you should visit him in his office when you’ve finished eating.” Alois then looks hopefully to her father. “As for you Jeralt, I was hoping you would go fishing with me this afternoon. I have an audience of my own to get to now, but do let minnow if you can make it!” He chuckles to himself as he leaves; Jeralt heaves out a long suffering sigh.

“I thought that one was fairly mediocre,” Byleth says. Jeralt just shakes his head. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him,” he tells Byleth. “But sometimes I wish I’d never returned here at all.” 

The last part, she thinks, is only partially about Alois.

“Well,” Jeralt says, rising, “I have meetings of my own to attend. You’ll be alright on your own? Won’t get lost again?”

“I’ll be fine,” Byleth promises.

“Well,” Jeralt says again, and leans over to ruffle her hair. “Good luck, kid. See you later.”

“See you,” she says as he walks away. For some reason, the words make her very sad. She has to chug half a mug of tea in order to choke down the last bite of her biscuit. 

_What is going on with me_ , she thinks miserably as she clears her place. No answers are forthcoming, whether from herself or Sothis or anyone else, so she walks her dirty dishes over to their appointed spot, where the kitchen staff can more easily collect them, and goes to see the Archbishop’s assistant. 

She ends up having to ask directions to Seteth’s office. One of the various church officials, realizing halfway through that Byleth has no idea how to follow the verbal directions she’s giving, kindly takes her there, being sure to point out and name buildings and their functions, as well as useful landmarks along the way. 

“Here you are, dear,” says the matronly old woman, smiling, as they cross the waiting area for Rhea’s audience chamber. “Go down the hallway, and his office is the first door on the right. Good luck!” 

“Thank you,” Byleth says with a small bow.

“You’re welcome. Now, I’d run along if I were you. Best not to keep Seteth waiting.”

“Yes, thank you. Goodbye,” Byleth says, turning away.

“Goodbye,” the woman replies. 

Byleth is raising her hand to knock on Seteth’s door when she realizes she didn’t ask this kind stranger for her name, either. _Shit_ , she thinks, then knocks. 

“Come in!” Seteth calls, so she goes in. 

His office is nice. There’s a comfy looking chair in the corner, lots of books--an interesting mix of theology texts, histories, arcane theory, and children’s fables--and a large window to let lots of sunlight in. 

“Miss Eisner, I hope you’re well. You are aware that you were recommended to take up a teaching position at the Garreg Mach Officers Academy, correct?”

“I am.”

“The Archbishop has already given her approval for your appointment, despite my advising her to the contrary. However, we do not wish to force you to take up the position. Should you wish, you could remain here at the monastery with your father, perhaps doing mercenary work with your and your father’s band, perhaps doing odd jobs. It is not outside the realm of possibility that a spot could be made for you as a student of the Officer’s Academy. You could also leave, if you so wish. The choice is yours.” 

Byleth considers him, then considers her options. She imagines saying no, turning, leaving. It’s difficult; it feels wrong, like a misstep taking her into the line of fire rather than out of it. She also doesn’t _want_ to say no; she wants to be the new professor. _I think I could be very good at it. I have been very good at it? Huh…_

Byleth looks back to Seteth, decision made. “I’ll be the third professor,” she says.

“Very well. Your meeting with the Archbishop is at Eleven Bells. Be sure to be on time.” He sits back in his chair a bit and looks up at her, standing in front of his desk. “You saved the lives of the students you came across. That, at least, was admirable. Now, you should make the rounds. Go around the monastery and see that you greet everyone. Get acquainted with the place.”

“Thank you, I will,” Byleth says, and leaves. 

_At least_ , she thinks as she crosses the waiting area in front of the audience chamber, _he doesn’t seem to_ completely _hate me. I can prove myself. It’ll just take time._

_“Yes, time,”_ Sothis says sleepily. _“Luckily, you have an affinity for it.”_ Then she falls asleep again before Byleth can ask her what she means. 

Byleth doesn’t follow Seteth’s advice. Eleven Bells is only an hour away, and she doesn’t trust herself not to get lost and be late to her audience. Instead, she finds her way back to the Dining Hall--a small victory, but a victory nonetheless--and from there back to her quarters in the mercenary barracks. Lucy, their band’s healer, has some books on theology and history and arcane theory--mostly faith based, but some reason based, too--and Byleth thinks reading one of them might be a good way to spend the next hour until her audience.Thankfully, Lucy is in and more than willing to share her books.

“They want you to be a professor! Imagine that! Not that you’re not intelligent, Byleth, love, just that you have a lack of, uh, formal education. I suppose it is a military academy, though, so probably you’ll mostly be focusing on martial training,” Lucy says, digging into her pack for a particular book. “Ah, here we go! _The Formation of Fódlan: Finding Fact In Legend_ by Alexandre Petrov. That should do you nicely as a more in depth exploration of both the historical past and the mythical past of Fódlan than you have at the moment, and you really do need to understand both to understand the current zeitgeist. If you need something more basic, though, I do have a children’s primer around here somewhere. Or, if you want something more advanced, I have--”

“Thank you, Lucy. I’ll stick with this one for the moment, I think,” Byleth says, a bit overwhelmed. _What have I gotten myself into…_

“Well, alright then,” Lucy says, stopping her rummaging and turning to smile brightly at Byleth. “If you want to discuss anything you read, I’m here and willing. Most of the time. But I’m sure there’s a beautiful library somewhere on the premises that will help you much more than my paltry collection can.”

“If I find the library, I’ll be sure to take you there to help me pick out books,” Byleth says.

“I’ll hold you to that!” Lucy laughs, and Byleth heads back to the dining hall to get a snack and read before her audience. 

Byleth has just gotten through the preface of the text when Eleven Bells is chimed. She tucks the book under her arm and makes a run for it. _The stairs are by that big room with all the tables and no real use_ , she reminds herself, and is relieved when she finds the room with little trouble. She takes the stairs two at a time and skids to a stop at the top, hastily smoothing down her hair and straightening her clothing. She tucks the book into her belt, then approaches the door to the audience chamber. There’s no one there to let her in, so she opens the door herself. 

At this time of day, the audience chamber is full of light. And, standing framed by that light, looking for all the world as if she’s a statue of a saint, is the Archbishop. She gestures Byleth to come closer, a warm, gentle smile on her face. _What a mask she wears...it is so perfect...too perfect…_

“I am most pleased that you have agreed to teach here at the Officers Academy,” Rhea says when Byleth reaches her. _At least she’s not mad that I’m late…_ “To start, please speak with the three house leaders. You should also take a look around the academy and acquaint yourself with your new home. That is your first task here at the monastery. Once you have finished, come and speak with me. At that point, decisions will be made regarding which house you’ll be teaching. Try to talk to as many students as you can, so you’re able to get a feeling for which house you’d prefer. If you come back and I’m not here in the main audience chamber, do look for me in my office over there,” and she points. 

“I will, thank you,” Byleth says with a small bow. When Rhea nods her dismissal, she heads over to look into Rhea’s office while the Archbishop herself turns to address herself to some other matter. She gives it a cursory glance, enough to know it seems less lived in than Seteth’s office, then heads back toward the entrance of the chamber. She sees Alois discussing something with Seteth off to the side of the room and waves hello, not wanting to interrupt. Alois waves back, and Seteth just nods, then they go back to their conversation. 

By chance, Byleth sees Edelgard first thing when she enters the room with no purpose-- _Oh it’s the Reception Hall, that’s the name, I remembered!_ \--and heads over to speak with her. _One of three, let’s go._

“So, you’ve accepted a teaching position here,” the girl says by way of greeting. “Pity. I was hoping you would lend your strength to the Empire.” After a slight pause, she adds, “I never properly introduced myself, did I? My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg. I am the princess and heir apparent of the Adrestian Empire. I wonder if you’ll be tasked with leading the Black Eagles…”

“I don’t know. I’m making the rounds currently, trying to meet all the students, get a feeling for the different houses,” Byleth says. _Tasked...do I get to pick or am I given an assignment? And which would I prefer...Rhea definitely seemed to be implying that my preference would be important…_

“I hope you’ve had the chance to meet everyone,” Edelgard says. “Would you like to know more about any of the Black Eagles?”

“Oh, I haven’t met anyone yet, aside from the other professors, the Archbishop, and Seteth. I would like to hear your thoughts on your classmates, though, once I have met them. Actually, do you have any idea where the rest of the students would tend to be?” 

“Yes, of course. Most of them will probably be in the Officers Academy classrooms or courtyard, but some might be scattered elsewhere. The only way to really know is to look,” Edelgard says. Byleth pauses to consider how much she values her pride, and decides that, in this instance, she values it a fair amount. She does not ask Edelgard for directions.

“Alright, thank you. See you later, Edelgard,” she says, turning in the direction she’d been heading, away from the staircase to the audience chamber. 

“Goodbye, Professor,” the girl says, watching her walk away. Byleth shivers. There’s something about Edelgard that makes her uneasy, in a similar way to the something about Dimitri that makes her warm and happy. _I don’ t like this...I don’t trust these feelings...I need to make sure they don’t cloud my judgement._

Approaching the end of the hall, Byleth puts aside her worries for different worries. _Where the fuck is the Officer’s Academy? Which door do I--Oh!_

“Gatekeeper,” she calls, hurrying towards the main doors of the hall, through which she’d seen him briefly. 

“Oh! Greetings, Miss Byleth,” he says, poking his head back around the corner and then walking towards her with a warm smile. “I hear you’ve been made a professor!”

“Yes, I have. And, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself or learned your name. So, I’m Byleth Eisner, pleased to have met you,” she says, finally catching up to him. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Professor,” he says with a slight bow and a grin. “My name is Andrew Ward. My job is to stand at the glorious entrance to the monastery and leisurely watch over the comings and goings of everyone. Make folks smile, you know? Er…and by that, I mean...to vigilantly guard the entrance with my very life! No levity whatsoever. As of now, nothing to report.” 

“Ah, okay, then,” Byleth says, uncertain how to respond to this. “I think it’s nice that you try to make people smile, but, do you get in trouble for that?”

“Oh, not really. But it’s one thing to do it and another to think of it as my job. I’ve been trying to create mental space, you know?”

“Sure,” she says, “but, actually, um, Andrew--do you prefer Andrew or Gatekeeper?”

“Either’s fine,” he says affably. She nods.

“Okay, so, Andrew, I was hoping you could point me in the direction of the Officers Academy? I’m supposed to be meeting and talking to the students, but I still don’t really know my way around.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Do you see that door, just there?” he points to the right.

“Yes.”

“Great! So, the Officers Academy is just through there. You shouldn’t be able to miss it.”

“Oh, wonderful. Thank you.”

“No problem. Good luck with meeting the students! They seem like a good bunch of kids, so you should be fine.”

“I hope so,” she says, and waves goodbye as she walks away. 

The courtyard is a nice, grassy space which Byleth thinks has the potential to be useful as a demonstration area, though it seems to be used more as a general hangout space for students. On one side it’s bordered by the wall to the Reception Hall, and on the opposite side arches hold up the roof of a covered walkway and allow students easy access to the yard. Byleth can’t tell at a glance, but she’s pretty sure there’s three doors opening off the walkway, one for each class. To her left, as she walks out under another covered walkway perpendicular to the first, she sees that the path continues on, uncovered, lined with hedges, part of the maze like interstitial space of the monastery that so confuses her sense of direction. As she keeps looking, trying to figure out where the path leads, she realizes that the strange boy who led her to the dining hall last night took her this way. _I hope he’s here_ , she thinks. _I hope I can say thank you, and finally ask his name._ Looking back to the courtyard, she does not see anyone with lavender hair. She does, however, see Claude. 

“Well, well. Scored a teaching gig here, did ya? Talk about a great first impression,” Claude says when she walks up to him, smiling his charming false smile at her. “I guess that means I better introduce myself properly,” he continues, and bows. Rising, he says, “I’m Claude von Riegan. I’m from the ruling house of the Leicester Alliance, but don’t worry too much about all that madness. I’m guessing you don’t know which class you’ll be teaching yet, do you? I bet you’d like ours. We’re not as...difficult as the other two.”

“Hmm,” Byleth humms in reply, curious to know what he means by that last part. 

Claude smiles his fake smile again and asks, “Have you met the folks from the Golden Deer House yet? Care to know more about anyone?”

“Oh, actually I haven’t,” Byleth says. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on them after I have met them, though.”

“Sure thing,” Claude says, all easy smile and charm. “The Golden Deer Classroom is right there, behind me,” he points, “and the Blue Lions are next door. The Black Eagles have the classroom furthest from ours, the other side of the Lions.” 

“Alright,” Byleth says. “Thanks.” And she heads into the Golden Deer classroom. 

The first thing she notices is the light. There’s a huge window opposite the door which manages to illuminate the greater part of the room, though shadows still lurk around the edges and in corners. Looking at the angle of the light coming in, Byleth thinks that this window probably faces West, and so will let in more light in the afternoons and evenings. _Combat training in the morning and lectures or discussions in the afternoons, maybe? Though the light will probably come earlier as autumn and winter go on…_

Byleth shakes her head; such things can wait. Now is the time for meeting people. She heads to the left of the room, where she sees two people conversing, a short girl with long white hair, similar to Edelgard’s, and a slightly taller bespectacled boy with pale green hair in a bowl cut. 

“So, you’re the skilled mercenary who saved Claude, are you?” the girl asks, turning to Byleth when she approaches. _What tales are being told_ , Byleth wonders, concerned. She earned herself a bit of a reputation as a mercenary, and the stories she sometimes overheard of herself...she would prefer not to carry the same reputation here.

“Oh, you are? It’s such an honor to meet you!” the boy says, surprised. He raises his hand in a half wave and introduces himself. “Ignatz Victor. My parents are Alliance merchants.”

“And I am Lysithea von Ordelia,” the girl interjects. “Please do not forget it.”

“Byleth Esiner,” she says in turn. “I won’t forget.” As she walks away from the pair towards another, two girls, one with light blue hair in a crown braid and one with light pink hair in pigtails, something in her own words strikes her as ironic, though she’s unsure why. 

“Hey, are you that mercenary?” the pink haired girl asks when she approaches them. At Byleth’s nod, she continues. “Everyone’s been talking about you. I’m Hilda Valentine Goneril. And her name is…” the girl looks to her companion, clearly intending her to speak.

“M-Marianne von Edmund,” the blue haired girl says tremulously. Byleth looks at her, concerned, but is given no chance to ask Marianne if she’s alright.

“Are you joining the Knights of Seiros or something?”Hilda asks. Then, without waiting for Byleth to answer, she continues. “Well, I look forward to seeing more of you!” 

Bemused, but understanding a dismissal when she hears one, Byleth retreats across the room from the pair, watching as Hilda rests a comforting hand on Marianne’s arm before beginning to chatter away to her friend as she had been before. 

The next pair Byleth approaches-- _why are they all paired off?_ \--is composed of a tall, broad boy with short blonde hair, a too small shirt, and an earnest face, and a comparatively shorter girl with close cropped orange hair and freckles and... _Is that Leonie?_

“Are you someone’s guest?” the boy asks as she comes up to them. “The dining hall’s that way, if that’s what you’re looking for.” 

“No, Raphael,” Leonie says, turning to look and giving a small smile to Byleth. “That’s Captain Jeralt’s kid.” 

“Leonie,” Byleth says. “Hi. It’s been awhile.”

“Sure has. Ten years, maybe? Maybe more.”

“Maybe,” Byleth agrees. There is so much she wants to say, but what exactly, and how, and, and, and... _I have missed her_.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Raphael Kirsten,” the boy says to her, smiling genially. “Who are you again?” Leonie rolls her eyes.

“She’s an old friend and rival of mine, Raphael,” she says, and draws Byleth away from him a bit. 

“If I’d known you were here, I’d have found you to say hi sooner,” Byleth says. “Does Dad--have you seen him yet?”

“No, just heard this morning that he was here. I wasn’t sure if you’d be with him, though. It has, after all, been a while. And, really, don’t worry about it. You just got here, what, last night? It’s fine. Now, if you’d waited till tomorrow, then I might’ve been a bit mad.” Leonie smiles and Byleth nods. _If I hadn’t agreed to be a professor, I wouldn’t have seen her_ , she thinks. Then: _Do I have to teach_ Leonie???!!!! _Would she even agree to be taught by me? Alternately, perhaps she’ll actually listen to me if I’m her teacher…_

“ You should come eat with Dad and me for dinner tonight,” Byleth says, putting her thoughts aside for now. _I don’t have to decide yet._ “We’ve both missed you.”

“Sure, that sounds great! What time should I meet you guys?”

“Six bells, I think. Dad’ll make time for dinner if you’ll be there. Otherwise, he might not eat.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the Captain. Okay, I’ll see you for dinner at six. Bye, By.”

“Bye, Leonie,” Byleth says, smiling at the nickname and the old joke. She crosses the room to the last occupant she has yet to talk to, a boy with violet hair in an...interesting cut, wearing a red rose on the breast of his school uniform. 

“Ah. You must be that renowned mercenary. Perhaps you’d like to join me for a cup of tea sometime,” the boy says in a tone of voice that Byleth knows and loathes. “My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. You will want to remember it.” Then he turns away from her, without even asking her _name_ , even though he’d invited her to _tea_ , just to stand there by himself doing absolutely nothing. _Oh, I do_ not _like you_ , Byleth thinks, and leaves the classroom in a worse mood than she’d entered it. 

“I presume from the tense jaw and shoulders that you’ve just spoken with Lorenz,” Claude says, observing her from where he lounges against a pillar. 

“Hmmph.”

“Yeah, Lorenz does that to people. He’s the heir of Gloucester territory, he’s a bit arrogant, and he fancies himself a lady’s man. That said, deep down he’s really devoted and honest...Though I wouldn’t mind never hearing him talk about his noble obligations ever again.”

“I didn’t ask,” she says, because she didn’t, then adds, “but that was a good assessment, and more fair to him than I’d have been,” because it’s true. 

“Well,” Claude says, arching his back in a stretch, hands clasped together high over his head, “I don’t particularly like him, but I don’t want him to lose us the chance to have you as our professor, either. And thank you; I like to think I’m a good judge of character.”

“Hmmm,” Byleth says, wondering if he’s being entirely honest with her. _Does it matter?_ “Tell me about yourself,” she says, and leans against the pillar across from him.

Claude laughs. “Piqued your interest, have I? As luck would have it, I’m pretty curious about you as well. But, what’s life without a bit of mystery? Let’s just spend the next year or so learning about each other, little by little.”

“You might be too clever for your own good,” Byleth tells him, and he laughs again, but this time it’s a little more honest.

“Would you like to hear my thoughts about everyone else or have you already made up your mind about them?” he asks when he’s done laughing. 

“Tell me what you think of your housemates,” she says, pleased to see him smile a bit at the words. “But before you do, tell me what you think of the other house leaders.” 

“Oh, I like the way you think, Teach!” he says, and she thinks he means it, thinks she sees a bit of respect under the false levity in his eyes. “My thoughts on Edelgard and Dimitri, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll start with Edelgard, then. She seems driven, devoted to some cause, though I’m not entirely sure what it is. She has a hard time dealing with criticism, and she’s not the best at taking advice, but she cares about doing a good job. She’s very proud, or at least, she acts like she is. She’s hiding something, though again, I’m not sure what. In some ways, she and I are very much alike.” He pauses after he says that, a momentary flicker of emotion on his face hastily replaced by his normal mask of cheer. 

_“Mirrors are dangerous things,”_ Sothis whispers sleepily. 

Byleth agrees, though she’s not entirely sure where the danger is in this instance. “And Dimitri?” she prompts, choosing not to comment on the slip of his mask.

“Ah, Dimitri,” Claude says, and looks across the courtyard. Byleth follows his gaze and sees the blonde haired prince standing in conversation with a much taller, darker skinned boy with white hair. “Dimitri is... interesting. He is the epitome of politeness and manners, and he’s an excellent fighter. A prince, through and through. But there’s something...off, I guess. A secret, something he’s hiding. He’s...well, it might be nothing. He’s had a rough go of it, from what I know. Perhaps it’s only that.” This time when Claude smiles at her, she turns her head away, unable to bear the falseness of it. 

_“Be careful, Byleth,”_ Sothis says. _“The weave of time tangles with these two; there are many patterns to be made, and many more to be torn asunder. Be careful.”_

_I will_ , she promises, and turns back to Claude. “Tell me about the rest of your housemates,” she says. 

He obliges, chattering away about his classmates. Byleth makes mental notes to follow up on; among them, Ignatz’s reluctance to be a knight, that Leonie’s village collected funds for her to attend the academy, and Hilda’s laziness. Also as he talks, she watches Claude himself, sees how his shoulders relax ever so slightly, and she thinks that he’s relieved to no longer be talking about Dimitri. But from the way his eyes wander back across the courtyard to him as she takes her leave, it seems clear that his thoughts have not likewise left the blonde haired prince. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter is so long. I did not intend for it to be, uh, almost as long as the entire fic up to this point? But I had promised that we would get to meeting the children in this chapter, and I was tired of being a liar, and also the story sort of ran away with me. Remember how last time I said I didn't want to write a thousand words of filler before we got to meeting the kids? Well, I did write about a thousand words before we got to that point. I don't think they're filler, though. Also, I've decided on some ships, if you can't tell. Please tell me if I'm being too hamfisted with them, I love romances and I love character interactions, and I'm really worried about overdoing it, but also I'm worried I'm under-doing it. Any feedback at all would be appreciated, actually, about how I'm handling the characters, the plot, the world building, anything, I would love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> As ever, if you leave a comment or kudos, you are among my favourite people ever, but I'm also just eternally grateful that you've decided to read my words at all. Thank you so much!!!! Take care, friends. <3 Dream_Scapes


	7. Introductions, Questions, and Feelings

Walking into the Blue Lions classroom is a revelation. It’s sitting down at the fire after a long, hard day’s work, with a warm drink in hand. Byleth hasn’t ever had a home, not in the traditional sense, has always been on the road, travelling with her father and the band, but this...this feels like coming home.

It terrifies her. 

“Well, well,” someone says, and Byleth blinks out of her reverie to see a red haired boy smiling charmingly at her.

_So many boys with so many charming smiles, and not one of them sincere_ , she thinks sourly. _Well, Dimitri is fairly sincere_. 

“It must be my lucky day today, being approached by such a beauty,” the red-head continues, to Byleth’s chagrin. She almost walks away, but there’s something...This boy leaves a familiar warm feeling in her chest, like Dimitri does. “I’m Sylvain Jose Gautier. Feel free to say hi whenever you like.” He winks at her as she turns and walks away, but she ignores him. 

_A warm feeling for him? Really? I wish I understood why I have them..._

Her escape from Sylvain leads her to the closest students, two boys, one very tall and broad, the other more average height and slender. She recognizes the taller boy as the one who had been speaking with Dimitri earlier.

The smaller boy sees her approaching and turns with a warm smile. “Hi, there! You must be the one everyone’s talking about. I’m Ashe. Great to meet you.”

She nods in a way she hopes indicates her reciprocation of the sentiment. “Byleth Eisner.”

“This here is Dedue,” Ashe says, gesturing to the boy beside him. “He serves Prince Dimitri.” 

Dedue bows low to her, and she takes a step back, uncomfortable with the sudden deference. 

“I have heard that you rescued His Highness,” Dedue says when he rises from his bow. “Words cannot express my gratitude. Should you ever require my strength, please know that I will hasten to repay this debt.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that--there is too much there to unpack, and it is both the wrong time and place. She doesn’t even _know_ this boy, but... _but I do_ , she thinks, certainty washing over her. _I know this room and I know all the faces within it, I know them and I care for them, and I don’t know why!_

She says nothing, in the end, just gives him a nod, too--hesitant though it may be--then heads toward another pair at the far end of the classroom. 

“I have heard all about what you did from Prince Dimitri,” the girl with the long blonde braid says, bowing as Byleth comes up to her and the boy next to her. “As citizens of Faerghus, I thank you.”

“He also said you’re quite skilled. And he doesn’t just say things like that,” the boy cuts in. There’s a note of respect in his voice, but there’s also an edge to it, something Byleth can’t quite parse. A strand of his long, dark, blue-black hair is falling in his eyes, and Byleth really wants to tuck it behind his ear. She thinks he might cut her hand off if she tries. “I look forward to sparring with you, and beating you,” he says. 

_Do I get paid extra for dealing with arrogant assholes, or is that just expected of teachers?_ Byleth wonders idly. She thinks she knows the answer, and she’s already tired. 

“Felix, must you always speak of fighting right away?” the blonde girl chides, shaking her head at him. Then she clearly remembers something, inhaling sharply and looking to Byleth rather sheepishly. “Oh! And, uh..you may call me Ingrid. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Byleth Eisner,” she says. “Likewise.” 

She thinks, as she’s walking toward the last pair in the room, that perhaps she should have said something else to make her exit from the conversation, such as it was, less abrupt, but she has no idea what. _Why is talking to people so hard,_ she laments, coming to a stop in front of the two girls conversing by the fireplace. 

“And who’s this? You don’t look familiar at all. Do you work here at the monastery?” the taller girl asks kindly. Byleth thinks she looks about her own age (whatever that may be) or slightly older. 

“Oh, Mercie! Do you think this is the mercenary people have been talking about?” the shorter, probably younger, orange haired girl asks, elbowing her friend in the side.

“Now that I think about it, that does sound like something Dimitri may have said…” the other girl, Mercie, says, fiddling with the ends of her hair, draped prettily across one shoulder. 

Byleth wonders how long they’re going to keep talking about her while she stands in front of them. The answer is: not much longer.

“I suppose you’ll be enrolling at the Officers Academy too, then?” Mercie asks. Byleth says nothing, but Mercie blithely chatters on. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mercedes, and this is my best friend--”

“I’m Annette!” the smaller girl jumps in. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“My name is Byleth,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” She pauses for a beat, unsure of what to do, but looking at Mercedes and Annette, feeling the same warmth she has felt for Dimitri--for all the Blue Lions--bubbling up in her, she wants to stay. And so she says, “I’ll see you around, I guess,” and leaves. 

She walks straight past Sylvain, out the door, and across to a pillar, upon which she leans, heavily. _I love them_ , she thinks, and knows it to be true. And along with it comes another truth, one that makes her heart ache: _I can’t choose them_. She needs answers, explanations, and she knows--she _knows_ \--that she will not find them here. This house and the strong feeling it entails are too strange, too odd; they are part of the problem, and so would likely obscure the solution.

_I can’t choose them_ , she thinks, and closes her eyes. 

“Professor? Are you alright?” someone asks politely, and she knows who it is without looking. 

“Just tired,” she says to the prince hovering at her side. “I’m not used to talking to so many people.” 

“Ah, yes, I can imagine that would be rather challenging to adjust to, especially since you’ve been thrown into the thick of things,” he says.

“Well,” she says, finally opening her eyes and standing up straight to look at him. “I’ve survived worse things. I can deal with this.”

He nods, gives her his polite, beautiful smile. It hurts to look at. 

“If you don’t mind, I was meaning to talk to you, but I can wait if you need more time.” 

She shakes her head, motions him on. He gives her his polite smile again, then a quick bow.

“Please accept my apologies for the other day. You came to our aid, yet I hadn’t even the courtesy to properly introduce myself,” he says, and this time the smile he wears is small and self deprecating. “I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, crown prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Of course, at the academy I am simply a student. And I’ve heard word that you are to become a professor here. Delightful news. I still have much to learn, but I’m confident I could benefit greatly from your guidance. In any case, welcome to the monastery.” He smiles again when he finishes speaking, but it’s a softer smile, a kinder smile. This one, too, hurts to look at, though in a different way. 

“Thank you,” she says, leaning back against the pillar. She needs to go take a nap, sort out her thoughts, but there’s a whole other house of students to speak to, and she’d said she’d speak to Edelgard again, and the audience with Rhea-- _though she doesn’t seem like she’d mind or even notice if I took a short nap before going to her…Seteth would, though._

“I hear you’re investigating the different houses here,” Dimitri says, and Byleth pulls her attention back to him. “Did any of the Blue Lions catch your attention?”

_Yes, all of them_ , she thinks, but she can’t say that. What can she say?

“They’re all an interesting group,” she settles on. “I’d like to hear your own thoughts about them, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly, I can do that,” he agrees readily enough, seemingly excited that she’s showing interest. 

Byleth drifts as she listens to Dimitri talk about his classmates; most of what he says feels more like an old memory resurfacing rather than new information. Dimitri and Sylvain and Felix and Ingrid have been friends since they were small. Sylvain is a flirt, Ingrid is knightly, and Felix is competitive. Ashe is adopted, and was once a commoner. Dedue is from Duscur, and is as good a person as they come. Mercedes was Imperial nobility but fled to Faerghus for reasons unknown. Annette is the niece of a Baron and a high achieving student of magic, if a hazard in the kitchen.

It takes her a moment after Dimitri has finished speaking, overwhelmed as she is by how much love she feels for these people-- _children_ , she thinks, _they are children, they are my children_ \--these strangers, that she doesn’t at first realize that he has said nothing about himself. 

“And you?” she asks, looking him in the eye. “Tell me about yourself.” 

“Me? Oh, um. Please forgive me...It’s difficult to open up on the spot, don’t you think?” He looks away, blushing, flustered, and her heart aches with love for him, and sadness. 

“Yes,” she says. “It is.” He looks back to her, smiles weakly, honestly, looks away again. 

“I’m afraid my story has not been a pleasant one,” he says, still looking away. “I do hope that doesn’t colour your view of me, but I understand if that can’t be helped.”

Byleth looks at him, her heart breaking. There’s a memory at the edge of her grasp, like words on the tip of her tongue, _there_ , but impossible to seize onto. She thinks about all the other children she’s met today. They’re all around her age, but she feels so much older than they seem. She thinks about the life she’s led, which has made her feel this way. Perhaps this prince feels older than the others, too. Perhaps too many of them are older than their years. 

“I think,” she says, and the words feel weighty as she says them, stones tied to threads on the loom of Fate, “that you are not so alone as you think you are.” It’s not really a response to what he’s said, but it’s true, and she thinks he needs to hear it. She hopes, too, in the corner of her mind that knows things she shouldn’t know, that it changes things.

Sothis says nothing, but Byleth can feel her watching, attentive to the moment, the shifts in the weave. It frightens her. 

Byleth is tired of being frightened.

“I look forward to working with you and teaching you, whether I am assigned the Blue Lions or not,” she says, and gives her own small bow to the prince. She walks off, toward the Black Eagles classroom, but pauses halfway there. She hadn’t asked him his thoughts on the other house leaders. _Does it even matter?_ She glances back, but Dimitri isn’t where she left him. He’s walking down the path away from her, toward the dining hall, Claude chatting animatedly at his side. She turns back around, continues walking.

_“Well done, Byleth,”_ Sothis says softly. 

Relief blooms in Byleth, and her shoulders drop. She breathes out a long sigh as she answers: _Thank you_.

She stops before entering the Black Eagles classroom, tilts her chin to the sky, takes slow breaths, trying to clear her mind like she does before a battle. She works her jaw, trying to loosen it, rolls her shoulders, cracks her knuckles and her back, shakes out her hands. 

_This isn’t a fight; they aren’t enemies_ , she tells herself. Then she enters the room, ignoring the taste of sorrow in the back of her throat.

Thankfully, she is not overcome by emotion when she enters, and no one accosts her as Sylvain did when she entered the Blue Lions classroom, so she heads to the first pair of students on the left, a tall, orange haired boy and a smaller, tousle-headed purple-haired girl.

“Ah! What? I don’t talk to strangers!” the girl shrieks, ducking behind her companion as Byleth approaches. 

“Bernadetta, this is no stranger! Our house leader owes this person a great debt. Is that not right?” the orange haired boy says, placing a comforting hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder and then turning to speak to Byleth, his body a barrier between them. 

She stands further away than comfortable speaking distance, but she doesn’t want to spook the girl--Bernadetta--anymore than she already has.

“I would not say she owes me,” Byleth says.

“Even so,” the boy replies with a smile that she doesn’t entirely understand. “I am Ferdinand von Aegir, legitimate son of the Aegir family, the Empire’s foremost house. Are you going to join our class? I look forward to getting better acquainted with you.”

“I’m Byleth Eisner,” she says, nodding to him. She’ll ask about the “legitimate son” thing later, or possibly never. She’s not sure she cares. “I’ll see you around, I guess. Sorry for scaring you, Bernadetta.” 

She walks a straight shot from that pair to the back of the room where a girl is standing by herself, perusing a bookcase.

“Well now, you don’t have a familiar face. What brings you here?” the girl asks, turning to smile brightly at her. Byleth likes her hat; so far as fashion statements and individualization of uniforms go, this girl has the best style so far. 

“Fate, I think,” Byleth says, and immediately wishes she hadn’t. _Did that sound like flirting, please, I don’t flirt, I can’t accidentally flirt, I mean at least I didn’t say that to Lorenz or Sylvain, but still!_

“Oh,” the girl laughs, as if pleasantly surprised. “My name is Dorothea. Before I joined the academy, I was a member of an opera company in the Empire. You should hear me sing sometime.”

“I’m Byleth, and, uh, sure. That sounds nice,” she says, uncertain if she’s blushing or not, before fleeing to the other side of the room. She thinks she hears Dorothea laughing behind her. 

She makes it halfway across the room before she comes upon the next pair of students, two boys, one fairly short with bright blue hair and one taller, with long, dark green hair. 

“Is it true that you saved Edelgard? That’s incredible!” the short blue haired boy says enthusiastically. “The name’s Caspar, by the way. Pleased to meet ya!”

“I’m Byleth Eisner,” she says, nodding to him. “Nice to meet you as well.”

There’s a pause as they both look to the other boy standing there, who’s clearly not paying attention, and is, possibly, asleep on his feet. Caspar nudges him.

“Hmm? Oh,” the boy says, blinking sleepily first at his friend and then at her. “Linhardt,” he says with a wave. “Goodbye.” 

“Yeesh, Linhardt. How’d you get into the academy with those manners?” Caspar asks, frowning at his friend. Then he turns back to her. “So, are you a student here too? Maybe we’ll be in the same class!”

“Maybe we will,” Byleth says, amused by the interaction. She likes these two, though she’s sure they’d be a handful to have in class. She waves as she walks away.

The last pair of students in the room are a tall, imposing boy who looks like he needs to eat some fruit and stand in the sun for a while, and a girl a bit shorter than Byleth with long purple hair tied up in a ponytail braid.

“I am Hubert. A humble servant of Lady Edelgard,” the boy says, introducing himself with a polite bow when he notices her approach. 

“I’m Byleth Eisner,” she says, giving a small bow of her own.

“I heard you came to the aid of Her Highness. You have my most sincere thanks,” Hubert says. He then sweeps a hand toward the girl next to him, who is smiling at Byleth but has yet to speak. “This is Petra. She has come all the way from Brigid to study in the Empire. Back on her archipelago, she is actually a princess. In Fódlan terms, she would be called heir to the throne.”

Byleth isn’t sure why she was deemed to need a lesson, but it’s useful information to her, so she just nods in acknowledgement. 

“Hello. I am called Petra,” the purple haired girl says, speaking for herself at last. She has an accent, but the words are clear, and Byleth wonders why she let Hubert do her introduction for her. “I am pleased to be meeting with...no, I am pleased to have met you,” Petra finishes. 

“I am pleased to have met you, as well,” Byleth says. She wants to ask about the mark under Petra’s right eye, but decides she’ll read a little bit about Brigid first. Maybe ask around Jeralt’s band to see if anyone has been there before, or knows anything about it. “I’ll see you around, I guess,” she says, waving goodbye to them both before walking away. Petra waves back, but Hubert just stares after her, unsettlingly intense. He makes her uneasy, but she’s not sure if that’s a gut reaction or one of the unexplainable emotions she’s been having recently. 

She’s thinking about this as she walks, meaning to head back to Rhea, and so she isn’t paying as much attention as she should be to where she’s going. She notices this when she looks up and sees the Cathedral and its bridge looming grandly before her, thousands of feet of empty air stretching below. Turning to her left reveals a vaguely familiar path that she probably walked when she was trying to find the dining hall her first night. Standing on the path, outside a grand set of double doors, she sees a tall man wearing a porcelain half mask. He seems familiar, too, but in a more sinister way, like she’s seen him before in a nightmare. 

“What do you want?” he asks in a deep, mournful voice when she approaches. 

“I’m Byleth Eisner,” she says. “I’m the new professor. I was told to go around and talk to people, get to know the place.”

He looks at her for a long moment, head slightly cocked, possibly evaluating whether she’s telling the truth. She’s beginning to wonder if she should just go back to Rhea when he speaks.

“I am Jeritza. I teach here. Weapon instruction. These are the training grounds. Good-bye.” 

“Okay, then. Good bye,” she says. He makes no move to leave, so she turns and heads back the way she came, bemused. _I wonder why I had such a sense of wariness for him. I mean, he certainly looks like a capable warrior, but...hmmm. No use dwelling on it now, I guess_.

_“Indeed,”_ Sothis remarks. _“It would probably behoove you to turn your attention, instead, to where you’re going, so you don’t get lost again.”_

Byleth stops walking and looks around. She hasn’t gotten far, she’s standing at the edge of the Officers Academy courtyard, a few steps away from walking into a decorative hedge. She sighs. 

_Thanks_ , she thinks to Sothis, and gets a pleased warmth in response.

Looking at the courtyard, Byleth thinks about all the children she’s met today. She likes most of them, loves some of them, and doesn’t really want to have to choose which house to teach. She knows she’s being done a favour, and she appreciates that, just...decisions are hard, and important ones are the hardest, and this choice feels _very_ important. 

_But is it really so hard? I’ve already decided I’m not choosing the Blue Lions, so that leaves only two...Between the Golden Deer and the Black Eagles, who do I like more? Which house will allow me to find more answers?_

She considers going to find Claude to speak with him again, but doesn’t want to potentially interrupt him if he’s with Dimitri; she’s messed with their strands of fate enough for the time being. Rolling her shoulders, she turns toward the nearest door, which _should_ , if she’s correct, bring her back to the Reception Hall, and Edelgard. Thankfully, she is correct. Her mental map of the monastery is further improved, too, when she realizes as she’s halfway down the hall, walking toward Edelgard, that this is the way she came initially, so somewhere in that hallway behind her is the staircase up to the audience chamber and Seteth’s office. 

_Wonderful_ , she thinks. _At this rate I’ll actually be able to find my way around reliably in half a year_.

_“You are being entirely too pessimistic,”_ Sothis chides. _“You are not used to enclosed spaces. With time you will adjust and find them easier to deal with, and to navigate.”_

_Maybe so_.

_“I will say, though, Byleth, be wary of this girl, Edelgard. She is a throughline in the weave, a pattern unto herself and incorporated into all others. She will play a very influential role in the future, one that is well set. I do not even know if you can change her course, without the most drastic of measures...Be careful, Byleth. Very little good comes from threads as unyielding as hers.”_

_Ominous, but noted_ , Byleth thinks, coming to a stop before the subject of their conversation. 

“Hello, Professor,” Edelgard says. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually come back.” 

“Oh, I always come back if I say I will,” Byleth says, because it’s true, though the words leave a strange taste in her mouth. 

“I see. Well, I’m glad of it. Did you come to enquire after my opinions of the members of my house?”

“Indeed, I did. You can start with whoever you want to.”

“How kind. I suppose I’ll start with Hubert, then.” 

Byleth listens intently to the descriptions of the Black Eagles, paying special attention to Edelgard's assertion of Hubert’s coldblooded reliability, as well as her griping over Ferdinand’s irritating one-sided rivalry and her general disdain for his house. While her personal feelings are also reflected in her discussion of Linhardt’s wasted potential, Caspar’s overeagerness, Bernadetta’s timidity and reclusive tendencies, Dorothea’s exceptionality, and Petra’s complicated political status, Edelgard’s hand is only clearly shown in her descriptions of those first two boys, presumably because they’re the two she’s known the longest and the only ones she’s really yet established relationships with. 

_Fascinating_ , Byleth thinks, then asks a question which will be either equally informative or a complete waste of time: “And what of yourself?”

“Me?” Edelgard looks, to her credit, like she expected this question. “Well...some think I’m a bit distant. Arrogant, even. But there’s little to be done. One day, I must rise to become Adrestia’s next emperor. What else...Well, it seems to me that we may have similar personalities.”

“Hmmm,” Byleth says in response, looking long into the other girl’s hard violet eyes. _You don’t even know me_ , she wants to say, but won’t. She also wants to question Edelgard’s conception of rule as necessitating a hard heart, perhaps get a whole debate going about rule and empire and moral obligations, but she thinks she ought to read a bit more before doing so; Edelgard is not someone she wants to fight while unprepared. “Okay. One last question, just for curiosity’s sake. What do you think about the other house leaders?”

Edelgard blinks, once, twice, taking a moment to form her response; Byleth is pleased to have asked a question she hasn’t prepared for. 

“My opinions on the other house leaders? Well, how interesting. But I’m sure I can oblige.”

“Please.”

“I’ll begin with Dimitri, I suppose. He has a good heart, and good intentions, but he is too eager to trust the word of others, believing them to be the same as him. I imagine his father was the same way, and that’s in part how the Tragedy of Duscur was made possible to occur. Even Claude, for all his antics, is not so quick to trust as Dimitri. 

“Speaking of Claude, he is a very cheerful, friendly sort, but he shouldn’t be underestimated. He’s always scheming up something, even if it’s mostly just pranks. If he applied himself to more serious matters, I imagine he would make a very good tactician.”

“Interesting. Thank you, Edelgard. You’ve given me much to consider.”

“My pleasure, Professor. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Byleth replies, and walks back the way she came, looking for the staircase to the second floor.

_All of them are trouble, and all of them are liars_ , she thinks to herself as she finds and climbs the stairs. _And perhaps my feelings are unfair, but Edelgard...she puts me on edge. Even so, though, it seems like she knows a lot that she isn’t telling, and Sothis did say she’s very important to the weave of Fate and Time...I suppose the question is, between Edelgard and Claude, who is more likely to help me find out what I need to know?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like this chapter. I, personally, am so glad we've finally met the rest of the kids and are going to be choosing our house in the next chapter, it's taken forever, but we're nearly there. After this I get more liberty to make things up, because there's more space to do so! Won't that be exciting, and make the writing take less time (hopefully). Sometimes I really wish I hadn't decided at the beginning that it would be cool to incorporate the game dialogue verbatim...Luckily, I did get my own copy of Fire Emblem: Three Houses for Christmas (happy holidays to everyone btw) so I am no longer reliant on finding and watching playthroughs to double check very specific things, nor do I have to steal my brother's copy to take to college with me when I leave in January. Which is good, because he wouldn't have been happy with me at all had I done that. Anyway, it's late and I'm rambling, so I'll just say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading my words when you had so many others to choose from. If you leave comments or kudos, I am extra thankful, and will treasure you forever. 
> 
> Much love, good health, and good cheer, friends. <3 Dream_Scapes


	8. The Golden Deer, A Crest, and A Name

Byleth hesitates before the tall double doors of the audience chamber. She wants more time to think, to weigh everything that she has learned against everything that is unknown and everything she could discover. _Claude or Edelgard, Claude or Edelgard_ , goes the refrain in her head, and she doesn’t know who or how to pick, what does she need, what might she learn, who, who, who? 

Someone approaches her from behind and she tenses and turns, then relaxes. 

“Hey, kid. You alright?” her father asks with his usual gruff concern, and the warm weight of his hand on her shoulder grounds her in the moment.

“It’s just a big choice, is all,” she says, leaning into him, resting her head on his chest.

“Yeah? Wanna come tell me about it while I reorganize my new office?”

“Sure,” she says, taking comfort and strength from the squeeze he gives her shoulder when she straightens up. 

Jeralt’s office is the first door on the left down the hall across from the audience chamber. It takes her a moment, but Byleth recognizes that the door opposite is Seteth’s office. _I should probably explore the rest of this floor_ , she thinks. _It’s not stalling if I’m doing what I was told to do...technically._

“Here I am again, the office of the Captain of the Knights,” Jeralt says, ushering her into the room with a little flourish. 

“What’s there to organize?” Byleth asks, looking around. The books are dusty, the desk bare, the couches arranged in a way that makes it clear they’re there to fill space. The suits of armour on stands just add to the aspect of display; this has not been a used room in quite a while.

“I didn’t say organize, I said _re_ -organize,” Jeralt says, looking around in distaste. “I’m merely here to assist. Apparently, the current Captain is getting on in years and has a hard time keeping up with the responsibilities of the job. That’s where I come in. But, to those ends, I have use of this office, and I can’t work in it like--” Jeralt waves his hand at the room, indicating the empty sterility of it, “--like this.” 

Byleth nods and takes a seat at the desk while her father begins to rearrange the couches, opening the space of the room up and making it so people can sit down without knocking their shins on the low coffee table or anyone sitting across from them. 

“You were saying something about a hard choice, kid?” her dad asks as he finishes pushing one couch against a wall. 

“Oh, yeah. They’re letting me pick which house I teach, and it just feels like...like a lot of pressure.”

“How so?”

“Like, the house I pick will determine the whole rest of the year. I want to make sure I make the right choice.”

“Well, sure. It wouldn’t be good to choose a house you don’t like and be stuck with them for a year. But you’ve talked to all the kids, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, then pauses, remembering the violet haired boy. She hadn’t seen him at all earlier...Well, there’ll be time for that later. 

“They all seem like good kids, right? You like most of them?”

“Yeah…”

“So, there isn’t really a wrong choice, then. There’s good kids in all the houses, and you’ll be a good teacher to them regardless.”

“I guess,” Byleth says, wondering how to explain the vague sense of doom she feels tied to her choice.

“I know that tone of voice. What am I missing? What’s eating at you, kid?” 

“I just...I think more what I’m trying to decide is which house will have more to teach to me, if that makes sense? Like, I know what I offer to them, but--well, maybe I’m being too transactional about it.” Byleth studies her hands, presses them into the surface of the desk, feels the edge cut sharply against her palm, but not hard enough to hurt. Her father hums in thought and comes to lean on the desk across from her.

“You know, By,” he says softly in his gruff voice, and she tilts her head toward him, letting her hair fall in front of her face, obscuring her sight and her visage, “I think it’s an admirable thing, to be trying to learn from the people you're teaching. I think it’s a good idea. But trying to maximize your learning, reducing it to numbers, reducing these kids to what they can teach you, that won’t go over well for you. I think the most important thing you should be thinking about when you choose your house is how much you like the people who make it up. It’s your first time teaching as a job, so it’ll be easier if you’re excited to do it. Choose the house that’s full of people you like and are excited to know better, are excited to teach, to help them grow, and also who push you to be better yourself.” Jeralt smiles down at her and ruffles her hair, disrupting her shield. Byleth pushes his hand away, thoughtful. A house she’s excited to teach, which will also push her to grow? She has an idea of which house that would be…

“Thanks, dad,” she says, brushing her hair out of her face and looking up at him.

“Always happy to be of service, kiddo. And, hey, if you think about it more and still can’t decide, you could always flip a coin or roll a die, leave it up to fate or the Goddess or whoever else might be listening to guide your path.”

“I am not a gambler,” she says, mock offended, then narrows her eyes at Jeralt. “And you’re supposed to be reformed.”

“I am reformed!” he protests, laughing. “I played a singular game of knucklebones yesterday with Alois and some of the other knights, and there was no money involved. It was just for fun!”

“Hmmm,” she hums, and they lapse back into silence for a while, watching her father work and taking the momentary respite from conversation as the gift it is. She can’t rest forever, though.

“I have to report back to Rhea,” she says, standing. “Tell her what my choice is.”

“Yeah?” her father looks up at her, then straightens, smiles. “Good luck, kiddo. You’ll be fine.”

“Hmm,” she hums again, and then she’s out the door and across the hall, standing before the audience chamber doors again. She takes a deep breath and lets it out again, running her calming exercises as she does before a battle. She thinks of what her father said, and of the children she’s met, and the house she wants to pick. 

She opens the door. 

It takes about half an hour to gather Manuela and Hanneman from their work, but after that the selection process begins. Seteth commences the proceedings with a note on his own reservations.

“I must note that I am personally against entrusting someone as lacking in trackable history as yourself with such a task, but it is as the archbishop desires,” he says, just a touch bitterly. Byleth can’t really blame him; her becoming a professor is, objectively, a questionable idea at best. 

_But I can prove myself to him_ , she thinks. _To all of them._

“The Black Eagles, the BLue Lions, and the Golden Deer...All so different,” Manuela muses. “I hope you’ve made it a point to get to know each of them.” 

_“Not that you could do anything about it now had you not gotten to know each of them,”_ Sothis snarks, newly woken.

Byleth sends her a warm amused feeling, which is quickly reciprocated. 

“Since you are new here,” Hanneman says, “we have decided to allow you first pick. Manuela and I will take charge of the remaining two houses.” 

Then everyone is looking expectantly at her, waiting for her answer. She looks past Rhea’s shoulder, unable to meet her eyes, or anyone’s, feeling a bit panicky.

_“Well?”_ Sothis asks, gently, her presence comfortingly warm and heavy in a way reminiscent of a hug. _“You’ve already made your choice. Now it just needs to be spoken.”_

_What if it’s the wrong choice?_

_“I fear I may have led you astray, which was not my intention. While it is true that each choice is impactful, and this one is certainly very impactful, no singular choice determines the pattern of the weave, the result of Fate. It is everyone’s choices together, over time, that shape the weave. What you say will not doom you, nor will it save you. It will simply make some things more possible than others. But, come, you have already chosen. Speak!”_

“I choose the Golden Deer,” she says, looking back to Rhea then away again, uncertain of how long she was silent, but grateful for Sothis’s presence, confusing though its cause may be. 

“So, you have chosen the Golden Deer, led by Claude. Correct?” Rhea asks.

Byleth pushes her panicky feelings of having made the wrong choice back down, nods, and says firmly, “Yes.” 

“Your heart has made its choice, then,” Rhea says with a beatific smile. “All I ask is that you guide these open minds with virtue, care, and sincerity.” 

“They are all promising youths who bear the weight of Fódlan’s future upon their shoulders,” Seteth says, much more severely. “I hope you appreciate what an honor it is to lead them.” 

Byleth opens her mouth to say that she does understand and appreciate the responsibility and trust placed upon her, but someone else speaks first.

“Brother?” says a short girl with long green hair the same shade as Rhea’s as she comes into the chamber. “Oh! I am so sincerely sorry! I did not mean to interrupt.”

“I am in the middle of something, Flayn. Is it urgent?” Seteth asks. 

Byleth wonders how old Flayn is, because she looks a bit young to be Seteth’s sister. Or possibly Seteth is younger than he appears? Or both, she supposes. It’s probably not important. 

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Flayn says dismissively, then looks curiously to Byleth. “More importantly...Who is this?”

“This is our newest professor at the academy, Byleth Eisner,” Seteth says, only a bit grudgingly. 

“Oh my! A new addition to the Officers Academy! I am so very pleased to meet you, Professor,” Flayn says enthusiastically. She gives a small bow, beaming all the while. “I am Seteth’s little sister, Flayn. I am so happy to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleased to meet you, also,” Byleth says.

Let us focus on the topic at hand,” Seteth cuts in coldy. “There is something you should be aware of. In a few days’ time, there will be a mock battle between the three houses, intended to gauge the current progress of the students. We will be using this battle as an opportunity to ascertain your own abilities as well. Please do not disappoint the archbishop. That is all.” Then he ushers Flayn away to his office, leaving Byleth standing there in shock.

“That was unduly harsh,” Manuela says, clucking her tongue in disapproval. 

“Seteth does have a sharp tongue,” Rhea concedes. “However, both of you still need to choose your houses before we can actually finish this meeting.”

“I’ll take the Black Eagles,” Manuela says.

“And I am fully content to teach the Blue Lions,” Hanneman says.

“Wonderful. Please, go introduce yourselves to your houses,” Rhea says. “Byleth, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask myself, Manuela, or Hanneman. We’re happy to help you get your feet.”

“That’s right,” Manuela says. “Just come down to the infirmary if you need me. And you can always find that old stick in the mud in his laboratory.”

“Need you be so rude?” Hanneman says, put-upon, as the three of them take their leave of Rhea and make towards the Officers Academy. “But, Professor Byleth, speaking of my laboratory, you’ll recall that I asked you to visit it earlier so I could test you for a crest. I know it’s been a busy day, but if you have time after meeting the students--oof!” He’s interrupted as Manuela elbows him in the side and glares at him. “I say, woman--! Hmmph, but, perhaps today is a bad idea. Come by tomorrow, if you please.”

“I’ll be sure to stop by,” Byleth says. She looks up, basking in the sun as they step outside onto the Officers Academy yard.

“Very good, very good! Well, I’ll see you then,” Hanneman says, then strides off towards the Blue Lion’s classroom.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. Just act like you belong and none of the sweet things will question you a bit,” Manuela says, patting Byleth’s shoulder. Then she, too, is gone, making her way to the Black Eagle’s classroom. 

Byleth does a few of her calming breathing exercises, then sets off herself. 

All of the Golden Deer are gathered in the classroom, though they’re more lounging against the desks than sitting at them. They all turn to look at her when she enters, and for a second there’s silence. Only for a second, though.

“Wait. What?! Are you really our new professor?” Hilda asks, shocked. 

“Is that true?” Ignatz asks, also surprised. “You aren’t quite what I had pictured...Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“I was sure you’d be roped into joining the knights!” Hilda exclaims. 

“Don’t tell me,” Claude says with a cheeky smile. “You chose this class just to get to know me better, right? I’m flattered, really.” 

She rolls her eyes and he laughs.

“Heh, whoops. Now that you’re our professor, maybe I should choose my words more carefully.”

“I don’t mind,” she says. She doesn’t want to build barriers between herself and the students, especially not when there’s almost certainly _already_ barriers on both ends that’ll need to be taken down for effective teaching to occur. 

“Oh? Well, then! Since we’re pretty close in age and all, I suppose formalities aren’t all that necessary.”

“One must truly marvel at the exceptionality of this appointment. Becoming a teacher to students almost the same age as yourself. How...unusual,” Lorenz says. He looks at her dubiously. “I’ve heard you are a skilled mercenary, but I cannot shake my discomfort at your new position.”

“Are you really as strong as they say? Let’s see your biceps! I bet I’ve packed on more muscle than you!” Raphael says cheerfully.

“I doubt that,” Ignatz disagrees before Byleth can address any of the preceding comments. “Apparently our new professor was personally recommended by Alois, one of the knights.”

“As far as skill goes, I saw it with my own eyes,” Claude says, smiling at her, then looking back to his classmates. “What’s more, Teach here is the child of the most renowned former captain of the Knights of Seiros.” 

“The captain? Who are you talking about?” Lysithea asks. 

“Captain Jeralt, of course! The most notable captain of the Knights of Seiros in history. He deserves nothing but respect!” Leonie says enthusiastically. 

“You’re exaggerating a bit,” BYleth says, but Leonie just waves off her words fondly. 

“Byleth is worthy,” Leonie says firmly, smiling at Byleth. “We trained together for a bit, when we were both younger, and she’s worked with Captain Jeralt for ages. They’re both peerless mercenaries. She’s definitely worthy.” 

Byleth touches her hand to her heart then extends it to Leonie, an old gesture they’d used when they were younger to convey thanks and love. Leonie smiles and does the gesture back to her. 

“Hm,” Lysithea says. “Well, with a reputation and recommendation like that, and after working as a mercenary alongside a father figure such as he, I have high hopes for our professor.”

“Just because someone is special doesn’t mean their children are special too, Lysithea,” Hilda says a bit heatedly, but Byleth doesn’t think the remark is meant to be a rebuke of her own competence. “Assuming that a child is going to be exceptional just because of their lineage is a bad idea. Don’t you agree, Marianne?”

“Huh! Oh…” Marianne looks about as uncomfortable as Byleth usually does speaking to so many people, possibly more so. Her heart goes out to the girl. “Um, yes. I suppose so.”

“Well, we’ll all prove ourselves in battle,” Leonie says. She turns to Byleth with an excited grin. “I can’t wait to see what tactics you’ve learned from the captain.”

“A battle?” Raphael asks, dismayed. “Shouldn’t we have a welcome party or something first? I’ll get the meat!”

“How savage,” Lorenz says disparagingly. “I propose a nice conversation over tea instead. I am more than willing to procure some high-quality leaves.”

“Tea? You can’t get to know someone over tea. If there’s no meat involved, it’s not a party!” Raphael protests. 

“Your common sensibilities are grating to my noble ears,” Lorenz sighs. “Please quiet yourself.”

“Sorry for the bickering, Teach,” Claude says, turning to her with another of his charming smiles, though this one seems to be genuinely fond. “As you can see, the Golden Deer House is a rowdy bunch. We’re not especially unified. You’ll find nobles and commoners alike here. Those who are dedicated to their studies alongside slackers.But, hey, that just makes your life more exciting, right? I really hope you’re looking forward to the year ahead as much as I am.”

She nods at him, at Leonie, at Hilda, marianne, Lysithea, Ignatz, Raphael, and Lorenz, at all of them, together. She is excited. But she’s also here to work.

“Lectures don’t start until Monday,” she says, “but I want to get a feel for where each of you are in combat, what your strengths are, what you’re not great at, what some areas of potential are, so I’m going to have one on one sessions tomorrow and Saturday. Sunday is your free day, as I’m sure you know. Here, I’ll write time slots up on the chalkboard and you can fill your names in.” 

The morning goes by so quickly with Cluade, Lysithea, and Ignatz’s individual sessions that Byleth almost forgets that she’d planned to go see Hanneman after lunch. She hurries from the dining hall to the second floor of the main building and manages to get to his laboratory fairly easily, though she did get mixed up and walk into the infirmary first. 

“Ah, Professor!” Hanneman says when he sees her. “Excellent, excellent. Here, come stand here, yes, good. Now, I’m going to use this device I designed to determine whether the power of a Crest resides within you. Won’t hurt a bit. Promise.”

“What are crests, exactly?” she asks as she steps over to the device.

“You don’t know about Crests?” Hanneman exclaims, shocked. “Well, allow me to tell you everything--absolutely everything--about them! Is your calendar clear? This will take a while.”

Byleth nods, amused by the joke, and listens curiously as Hanneman gives a miniature lecture.

“Crests are a fascinating topic, but before one can dive deeply into said topic, one must first understand what Crests are. They are power incarnate. They are said to have been bestowed upon humans by the goddess countless ages ago. They exist within the flesh, and are passed down through bloodlines. Those who carry Crests may excel at magic, display exceptional strength, or any number of boons. Each Crest has its own power, the nature of which is beyond mortal understanding. For now.” 

“And you believe I have a crest?” she asks. 

“I suspect as much, yes. But we won’t know for sure unless I look into the matter. As I said, Crests are passed down through the blood. However, just because someone carries a Crest does not necessarily mean their descendants will inherit it as well. Only a scarce few descendants of a Crest’s bloodline end up inheriting that Crest’s power. Perhaps one of your ancestors bore a Crest, and you just happened to inherit it. That is how a Crest usually presents itself, after all.”

Byleth is curious, and she also feels like this is something important. The idea of having a Crest is strange but feels right. “Okay,” she says. “Do what you can to find out.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll get to the bottom of it straight away,” Hanneman says smiling at her, excited.

He directs her to hold her arm over the device and when she does a strange looping pattern appears.

“What is this?!” he exclaims, leaning down to have a closer look. “A pattern I’ve never seen before...Is it possible an as-yet undiscovered Crest has been detected? To think there are still Crests out there that even I am unaware of! How thrilling!”

Byleth removes her arm from the device and crosses it self consciously. _This whole thing is weird_ , she thinks. 

_“I agree,”_ Sothis says. _“But that pattern...it seems so familiar…”_

“Ahem,” Hanneman says, drawing Byleth’s attention back to physical reality. “Pardon my unrestrained jubilation. I have much to consider. You may leave now. I have more research to do in regard to this Crest. Yes, so very much more research. But for now, your work here is done.”

Byleth nods to him and leaves, listening to Hanneman’s excited speculations as he studies her crest fade away as she walks back toward the training grounds. 

“You look tired, friend,” a familiar voice says as someone comes up to walk alongside her right.

“I am tired,” she says, looking over at the lavender haired boy. “And curious. But first, let me say thank you for helping me the other day. You’d left by the time I remembered.”

“The thanks are appreciated, but unnecessary. I was merely doing a good turn.”

“Hmm. Well, thank you all the same.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What’s your name?” she asks, looking over at him. 

He looks back and gives her a sly smile. “What’s yours?”

“Byleth Eisner.”

“Oh, so you’re the new professor! I’ve heard whispers about you. Everyone’s very curious about why Rhea chose you to be professor, and interested to see how you do in the role.”

“Hmmm. You still haven’t told me your name,” Byleth says, though the reminder that so many people are watching her, waiting for her to fail, makes her feel a bit sick to her stomach. 

The lavender haired boy considers her for a moment, then smiles his sly smile again. “You can call me Yuri. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Byleth.” He gives a little flourishing bow and looks up at her, smirking.

She considers him, shakes her head. “Charmed,” she says dryly. “You aren’t a part of the Officers Academy and you don’t look like you work for the monastery. Why are you here?”

Yuri straightens and smiles at her again. “Sorry, you only get one free bit of information a day. All others you have to pay for. Be seeing you, Byleth!” And then he’s gone, darting off into the shadows like he was born in them before she can even say a word. 

Byleth considers going after him, but the chimes of the Monastery bell remind her she has appointments to keep with her students. She picks up her pace and makes it to the training grounds just in time for her appointment with Raphael. As she picks up two training swords for a sparring match, she shakes Yuri out of her thoughts. She’ll deal with him in due time. For now, she has to prepare her students for a mock battle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I updated before the month ended! I don't know if you noticed but I've been trying to update both my works at least once a month and I was worried I wouldn't make it this time. But I did! Thank god. (Casual note that I have a super angsty super sad fic about all the Blue Lions and how they reacted to the news about Dimitri over the timeskip, you should check it out if you're interested!)
> 
> Okay, I really hope you guys like this chapter, it's more interpretation and invention than I've really done before, but I had a lot of fun with it! One of the things I'm trying to do in this fic is make the relationship between Byleth and Jeralt closer than what's shown in game. I also *hate* the rivalry with Byleth and weird hero worship thing for Jeralt that Leonie has going on in canon, so I'm fixing it. If you check my tags, that's why one of them is "Leonie and Byleth are sisters". Because they should be. So I had to rewrite some dialogue, hope it still flows nicely. I also hope the whole spiel about crests that Hanneman does wasn't too boring or bad in any way, I wasn't sure about leaving it in, but I mean, Byleth experiences that and it is important info for her to know, so I left it in. And Yuri came back! The whole Cindered Shadows storyline is weird and trying to figure out how to fit it in is weird and annoying because it's really very obvious that it's just this side thing that's barely related to anything, but I'm trying to put some stuff in motion. We'll see how well that goes. And! We finally have our house! God, we can finally move to actual instruction and getting to know the students, and, like, plot! All the good stuff! I'm so excited. I hope you are too.
> 
> Okay, one further note. I'm back at University this semester and classes start Monday the 25th so I don't know how that's going to affect my schedule for this. I started this over the summer/fall when I was taking a leave of absence because of COVID concerns, so I haven't ever written fic while I'm at school. I'm going to try my best, but we'll see how it goes! Even if I end up taking a break for the entire semester (which I doubt will happen because sometimes I start thinking of this fic and just. Can't stop.) I'll definitely still come back and pick it up when classes end. I love this story and my readers, and I'm super grateful for all of you.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who comments and gives kudos, and to everyone who just reads. You guys are great. Take care, friends!!!! <3 Dream_Scapes


End file.
